My Story, Valentine

Mike and I went out for our amaze friend's birthday the other night. And as we were sitting around the table she told me and Mike that we were incredible together. She told us that we made such a good team and that we complimented each other so well. She had known many couples that she did not think would make it forever but that ours would and that if we didn't she was going to be really mad. Instead of focusing on herself (after all it was her birthday), she went on about us for a little bit. She made me remember all of the reasons that I loved this man sitting there with us. And I know she meant it cause she was drunk and you never say anything you don't really mean when you're drunk.

Press play, listen to song, and read...

“All of these lines across my face, tell you the story of who I am

So many stories of where I’ve been and how I got to where I am

But these stories don’t mean anything when you’ve got no one to tell them to

It’s true… I was made for you.”

My Story by Brandi Carlile

We all have a story.

 

Each chapter of our life tells a different part of that story. Sometimes the characters change, sometimes the characters you meet in the beginning are the characters that are with you until the end. Sometimes there are costume changes, clothes, style, hair, makeup, appearance – it all usually changes within the life of your story. The story can have twists and turns, can include many genres and be one of adventure, passion, comedy, drama, friendship, change. And when we’re truly lucky… love.

 

My story today is about love. Profound, I’ve waited for you all my life, I didn't think I would ever find you, where were you i was looking... hard, love.

 

Ask a room full of strong, intelligent, confident women how easy it is to find a man that can handle strong, intelligent, confident women (really handle, like for a LIFETIME handle) and you will find a decently full room of strong, intelligent, confident, SINGLE women.

 

This is where my story begins.

 

Always one to make myself known, I have been a vibrant, flashy, bull headed girl since girlhood. Fights with boys, standing up to teachers, intimidating bullies… no one was telling me what to do. (Please, God, let Rafaella be easier than this…) In my teenage years, this personality suited me well. At a time that people fold to peer pressure, I felt secure and sturdy on the ground of who I was and the story I was living. (Please, God, let this be the case for Rafaella.)

 

But when I got to my twenties, an interesting started to happen. I started meeting men that, subconsciously, wanted to crush this. They didn't mean to but the thing that initially attracted them to me was what eventually caused our demise. If I was passionate in the beginning, by the end I was too confrontational. If I was fiery and hot blooded in the beginning, by the end I was emotional and (don’t cringe, ladies…) crazy (I know, only women can understand that calling us crazy, actually physically makes us CRAZY!)

 

And so when relationships would fail, I would be left wondering what I did wrong. I hadn’t changed, had I? I was honest and upfront about who I was and the story I was telling. After a while, I started thinking that maybe it wasn’t that I had changed but that I should change. Girls that I knew to be passive, not challenging, easy to handle, were finding love and settling down. Maybe to find love, I too had to be those things. I thought for some time how much easier my story to love might be if I could make myself into that person. (Please, God, advise Rafaella away from this thinking that changing yourself for anyone is a good idea.)

 

But in typical fashion, the easy story in life is usually never the right story… at least never for me.

I decided to live my story truthfully, living it by being who I am. And what I never realized is that I am a strong, intelligent, confident woman. But what I also am is vulnerable, self-doubting, and wobbly.

 

And then a man came along that was able to see all of me for the story that I was: complicated, difficult to understand at times, but well worth the read. He loved me with vigor. He understood that I expected a lot but gave a lot in return. He knew my loyalty was undying and that my love was pure and constant and unwavering and that he was lucky that all before him were too short sighted to see what a lifetime with me could mean.

 

He came along in a way so unique to him and so different than anyone before: quiet, patient, ready. Ready for me. Strong enough to handle life with me. Intelligent enough to know he could. Confident enough to know himself and know that I wasn't as ferocious as my bark. I loved him quickly. And if you knew him, you'd know why just as quickly.

 

Looking at this man, I realize that the story we tell ourselves about what life should be like seldom is the story that life actually becomes. And that the story that life becomes is always better than the story you planned on writing.

 

We all have a story.

This one is mine.

Thank you Meeks, on this Valentine’s Day, for showing me that my story of love was not just about finding you, someone so incredible and exceptional to love, but also about finding myself, someone as equally incredible and exceptional and loving her too.

Thank you for:

• Loving our daughter as much as you do
• Giving me this life… a good, good life, Our Buena Vida
• Being my biggest fan
• Looking at me the way you do
• Still thinking and telling me that I’m hot, even after having a baby and especially when I don't feel it.
• Allowing me the opportunity to write and follow my biggest dream everyday
• Filling the soap containers and washing our baby’s bottles and not being the kind of man that expects me to always do that
• Listening to everything I say although you can’t always hear (literally, sometimes you can’t physically hear me.)
• Understanding that I need to make my bed in a certain way and not (always) thinking I’m crazy
• Being my witness through life
• Being my best friend when I absolutely needed one