With all of the holidays and inclement weather over the past month, my husband Doo and I have spent a lot of time together in close quarters. Not that that is necessarily a bad thing, but the proximity does make me wonder how we’ve made it this far without offing each other. I say that with a bit of snark and a ton of love, but honestly, I think someone up there was drinking the day he/she decided to make us soul mates.
Take our “love languages,” for example. These are the ways people communicate and give and receive love to and from others. There are five total– gift giving, physical touch, quality time, words of affirmation and acts of service. I am without question an Acts of Service girl. You wanna demonstrate your love? Vacuum. I couldn’t care less if Doo brings me flowers or tells me I’m beautiful, and I definitely don’t want to spend all of my free time with him. (Mama needs her cave!) I also have major personal space issues, enough so that I am truly uncomfortable giving and receiving hugs, even from my own mom. And yet, whom did Fate decide to make my lifelong partner? A Physical Touch guy. Doo knows I love him when I give him back rubs, hold his hand and, choke, hug him. While scrubbing toilets and folding laundry totally do it for me (“I love the smell of Clorox in the morning!”), Doo needs physical affection to feel loved.
To compound matters, I am hyper-organized, punctual and admittedly, a tad bit controlling, while Doo is spontaneous, carefree and a pinch A.D.D. So even when he is trying to express his love, he is often derailed. Like the other day when he decided the basement storage room just had to be cleaned out. Normally, this would have been music to my ears, except that two weeks later, the finished part of the basement is still filled with tubs of Barbies, books, old weightlifting equipment, Easter decorations and miscellaneous vases. I really do NOT feel like giving out hugs at this moment.
But opposites do attract, and I can’t imagine anyone else I’d rather be on this journey with. I guess the trick is to appreciate your partner for who he is, not for who you want him to be. Doo and I don’t always speak the same language, especially when trapped inside for days at a time with four children, and unfortunately, there’s no Rosetta Stone that’ll make it easier, but we’ll keep trying. So to whomever is up there having a laugh at our expense, I say, “Thank you. You’ve certainly made this marriage an interesting adventure!” Peace out.