Got to Do, Got to Do with It…
My husband and I were watching a movie last night. There happened to be a sex scene, which we all look forward to and somehow still manages to make me giggle. They were kissing passionately in a hot spring, completely secluded and surrounded by candles (I’m wondering who carried all that out there?) when the female whispers “We could stay here forever, you know”. This caused raucous laughter to erupt from my cookie-filled mouth. I immediately thought this statement was a disguised suicide pact offer. The idea that such a rehearsed and unattainable suggestion could spring forth from an actual person’s mouth dragged me right back to reality (which I was trying to escape for two hours while I watched this movie). My husband and I shared a mutual chuckle and continued to stare at the screen.
Love is pretty, butterfly-stomached and giddy for only so long. Then it becomes a handsome, yet grizzled, mountain man you might see a travel ad luring you to Alaska. It survives the eight foot snow drifts and doesn’t shave it’s legs. It shoots groundhogs and cooks them over an open flame but, saves the best bites for it’s better half. There may be silver screen worthy moments scattered sporadically, but if long lasting love was a movie, it would most certainly be “The Revenant”. The only statements I murmur while hurriedly kissing my husband (foreplay can’t last long, someone’s nap will end and things better be wrapped up by then) are things like “ Did you turn the oven off?” or “I think we forgot to let the dog back in.” or this little gem “Oh crap…today is trash day.”. Romantic? No. Love? Yes.
I knew what love truly looked like watching my parents growing up. They dragged the family through each day with a clean (ish) kitchen floor, three meals of varying quality, completed homework and a weekend activity. Mom and Dad were, and are, teammates who happen to be in love (lucky for all of us). But, not the love that whispers in a hot spring “We could stay here forever, you know”. There’s is the love that survives thirty years and more. That is the love I have always wanted and I have found with my husband. When my husband walks in while I empty and wash my Diva Cup, but continues to help our daughter brush her teeth, I know I’ve found the love that survives.
I don’t want my generation thinking they can control every aspect of love and that each relationship they encounter has to be “picture perfect”. What we see on other people’s social media profiles is an edited version of love. I don’t doubt they’re experiencing love in their own way, but it’s been filtered. They’re not posting pictures or videos of a fight they had last night over what is considered “using too many paper towels” that ended with them ugly crying. We are so afraid of rejection, imperfection and being alone, that we cling to media’s portrayal of love, which is inaccurate, unattainable and downright disturbing.
Please know, we are all deserving of safe, healthy, happy and sometimes ugly, love. It is real and it is amazing. But, occasionally, it looks like an angry Mama bear running at you to rip your face off.
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