Updated: Oct 23, 2019
He‘s my biggest fan.
And he’s THE very most important earthly person to encourage my healing.
When I post about marriage, I will
only be speaking about one man —my dear husband of nearly 30 years.
Though we were good friends and summer pen pals before we dated, our dating began just five months after my last egregious encounter with (Un)increduble Hulk and just six weeks after my very last (amicable) conversation with him. This is significant. To say that my husband has been there from the earliest moments of recovery is no exaggeration.
I was in counseling, processing all of the emotional pain and fear and dynamics that come with exploring one’s abuse, while attempting to trust and forge a new romantic relationship. It wasn’t easy. There were so many tears. Our relationship started with some deficits because I had been beaten down, literally.
Our early married life was characterized by unrecognized PTSD. I had a nightmare on our honeymoon. Each time I would travel or sleep in a new place, nightmares traveled with me. We look back now and wish we would have been more educated, more aware and more proactive about treatment for PTSD.
All of the aftermath of abuse was met with my husband‘s supernatural kindness and gentleness. But it was wearisome to him. He often paid the price of others’ sins toward me with a fearful, angry and distrustful wife. Near our 12th anniversary, a significant motivation for me to seek more counseling and begin a life-changing healing journey was to bring health and preservation to our marriage. We all need our motivations to get past the past. He was mine. Nobody else is going to fight for your marriage.
Here we are now. When I had a #metoo moment before #metoo was ever a thing, I called him on the phone. I told him I had just told the truth to trusted officials and kept a five year promise to myself. His first words, “I’m so proud of you.” What a gift.
This entire blog could be about just him. He’s encourager, defender, soulmate and saint. He is a great *shelter to me.
HIs love song to me ends with
“I’ll be the greatest fan of your life”
by Edwin McCain.
And he is. I don’t know where I’d be without him. I’m forever grateful.
*read The Barn, My Shelter here.