Would I Marry Him All Over Again?

While browsing Facebook this afternoon, I came across a slide show where 15 women answered the question: Would you marry your husband all over again?

Most of the women said they would. Some said yes because their husbands are good daddies, others because they like them more now than they did before. One said she wouldn't marry the man she married years ago, but would marry the man he is now, which I think is completely relatable. Another said she might not because of her husband's severe depression--something, as a person who suffers with severe manic depression, I worry about. But it wasn't really the slideshow that was I found interesting, it was the comments on the Facebook link.

It's amazing what people will tell complete strangers. Stories about years of marriage, in many cases. But, it seemed like, overall, the answer was yes. Most of the commenters said that they would marry their husband's again. But, you know, I wonder how much of that is actually true? Maybe it's my pessimism, but marriage/divorce statistics don't tell a happy story about happy marriages.

But okay, that small sampling clearly doesn't represent us all. I wonder, though, if all of those women who said they would marry their man again really mean that, or if they're just saying it because, well, Facebook isn't anonymous. If there's a chance their husbands will see it, and it'll stir up drama, then of course you're going to say yes!

More than that, I wonder how much they really thought about it? Really, truly thought, before answering the question. Because, I think that most of us want to justify our life choices in a way that makes them seem like good choices. We want those years to mean something and if we go back and say no, that we wouldn't do this again with the same man, then how much of who we are has just been totally invalidated? I think it's tough to look the question in the face and really see the answer.

Having been married for 17 1/2 years, this is interesting to me. I've been thinking about it for hours now. Would I marry my husband all over again? Like the commenters, my knee-jerk reaction was yes. Of course, I would. But to be fair to my own questioning, I've been considering it. Really considering it.

Not all of the years have been good years. We've had times when we struggled, when we still struggle, and choices have been made that I had trouble adjusting to. I thought about what we've accomplished together and wondered how our lives would have been different if we had taken a different path. I thought about whether or not he gave up having kids he might have wanted in order to be with me, and I considered if that was a mistake for him or if he ever regrets it. I wondered if I'm worth it and came to the conclusion that I'm most likely not. I wondered how much time we've wasted doing nothing and how many years we've lost spinning our wheels. Then I remembered that we weren't spinning our wheels, we were getting somewhere. I wonder if we enable one another's bad choices and think that maybe, sometimes, we do.

But, you know, all that thinking and I never was able to see a different way. And, if I'm being honest, I don't really want to. I love my husband and even though we're both vastly different people than we were when we got married almost 18 years ago, we've grown together in a way that makes sense for us. We've grown together, not apart. We might enable one another, but we also support one another when it matters. We argue, but we also listen to one another's thoughts and fears. We're better together than we are apart, which is why we work. I hope he would say the same thing.

Still, love is only a part of the equation, which I think is the biggest thing a lot of the people--mostly women--commenting on Facebook were missing. Most of them had a love conquers all mentality, but love does not conquer all. Not by far. It doesn't overcome financial issues in a way that helps to resolve them, it doesn't feed you or put a roof over your head. Many of them were of the opinion that it's never acceptable to quit a marriage, which doesn't make sense to me. There are good reasons people choose to leave a marriage. It doesn't make a person a quitter.

That part of the process inevitably brought me around to my first marriage. I know, without a single shred of doubt, deep in my soul, that I would never, ever marry my first husband again. No thought necessary. It's something I just know, something I looked in the face years ago. I completely own my mistake in marrying him. We had an abusive, painful dynamic. He thought I was stupid. He told me more than once that I wasn't smart enough to go to college. He treated me not like a partner, but like a person who should be grateful he saw fit to give his attention. It was bad and would only have gotten worse. There were a hell of a lot of good reasons to leave that marriage.

It's a drastic difference when I compare that to my current marriage, to a husband who supports me and lifts me up. I know what a bad marriage with a bad husband feels like. No one should want to stay married under those sorts of circumstances just so they don't look like a quitter.

Ultimately, the slideshow and accompanying comments are a harmless little thing, but they got me thinking about how much time people really take to consider their choices. It's valuable, though, because it gave me time to really reflect on mine. It brought me to a place where I was able to really see my relationship and not take it for granted. Because, that's just as important as knowing, if you ask me. If people aren't thinking about their marriages, how can they truly appreciate them?


Becoming a Utah Driver...

I finally got my Utah driver's license squared away a couple of weeks ago. We've been living here for a little more than two years and I finally, just this last month, got my driver's license. Because I procrastinated, sure, but also because the ID laws here (and apparently everywhere, now) are a big old pain the ass. Even then I only did so because my Texas license was expiring and they wouldn't let me renew it. Turns out Texas wants you to live there if you're going to be licensed there. Go figure.

When I moved to Texas all I had to do was give them my California driver's license and they gave me a Texas license. That was in 1999, the good old days, when things were less complicated. Now, since 2010 apparently, ID laws require that you show them your birth certificate and every single change in name you've ever had. With certified documentation to prove it. They don't want you going home and whipping up some documents, which I guess makes sense. 

Here's the thing. My birth certificate, which my folks were kind enough to get and mail me, says my last name was Rhodes. My marriage license to Matt says my last name was Knight. So, when I went to get this taken care of, they took one look at my documents and reject them.

"How did you get from Rhodes to Knight?" the clerk asked. She looked a little confused. 

"In a nutshell, I was married to this dude for like a second, a zillion years ago..." I explained.

"Gonna need to show that," she told me. "Get the paperwork and come back."

So, that's what I worked on doing. That turned out to be easier said than done. In order to prove my identity, I needed a birth certificate, a certified marriage license to my first husband, certified divorce decree, a certified marriage license to my now husband, and my Texas driver's license. Oh, and two pieces of not-junk mail to establish my residency. 

When I contacted California about getting my marriage license, they said it would take up to six months to get one. Six months. It had been the same thing with my birth certificate, which is why my folks went and got it. But, only parties to a marriage can acquire certified marriage licenses, so they couldn't really get that. And, I didn't have six months. My license was going to expire in a third of that time. I might have had six months when we moved here two years ago, but I didn't want to give up my Texas license, so I wasn't doing it. Now, I had this tiny window in which to get all these papers. 

So, I did what any desperate person would do. I bit the bullet and asked my ex if he had copies. This was awkward. I knew it would be, but I didn't see any other choice. Considering that we've literally only spoken twice since I left him all those years ago, it was tough to summon up the nerve to ask him to lend me our marriage license and divorce decree. But, I figured we're all adults and we've all moved on.

He said he would look for them and get back to me. But, then he didn't get back to me at all and when I followed up with him... silence. Since I had put off ordering them in case he might have them, I was a little bit concerned. My window was closing... quickly. When I didn't hear anything for a month, I went ahead and ordered the paperwork from California.

The divorce decree was the easy part. All I had to do was send them a letter of request, a check, and a self addressed, stamped envelope. I used Vital Check to get the certified marriage license, but that involved me giving them notarized paperwork and a copy of my current driver's license. 

Once I had all of that on order, the strangest thing happened... my ex sent me a message, told me had found the papers, and that he would lend them to me if I promised to give them back. He also kindly told me that I could order them from California so I would have copies for myself, for the future. Which, of course, I already knew because I had literally just done that. I thanked him and asked that he send them because I figured I'd get his papers in the mail quicker than I got the paperwork from CA.

Turns out, California is quicker than they said they would be. I got his papers within a day or so of getting the ones I had ordered from California. I promptly used them and mailed his papers back to him. Crisis--my DL expiring on my birthday--averted and it only cost me a little sanity and a little humility.

So, I'll have my Utah driver's license in hand in a couple of weeks. Even though I resisted, it feels good getting it taken care of. You should have seen the fiasco trying to register to vote without a state license. A story for another time. 

My first TX DL after moving to Waco--man I looked young! They cut the top off when we moved to a new city and I got a new license. Here in Utah, they just hole punch to invalidate.

Cupcakes...

I had the intention of writing about something unpleasant that happened recently... no, I did write about it, but I decided not to share it right now. I don't need any more negativity, I'm feeling low enough without all that. So instead, this...

What the World Sees...

My in-laws are here this weekend. We haven't seen them since we moved to Utah two years ago, so it's nice to be able to visit. They're going to a family reunion next weekend and took a longish detour to come up and see us. Matt's been happy to be able to see his dad and step-mom, and we've had very a nice visit so far.

Before they came, though, I spent two weeks cleaning and trying to prepare for their visit--which is totally our fault because we didn't keep up with things all that well and something we were happy to do because we wanted Matt's folks to see the best side of us. In preparation, we bought a bed for our guest room, which we needed anyway. We painted a door and a return air vent that needed work, we paid the guy who does our lawn $200 to mow the back (well worth it!). I spent three hours on my hands and knees scrubbing the very dirty grout in our kitchen, trying to bring it back to the pretty light-almost-white-gray it was when it was new. It was hardcore spring cleaning, a little late.

It's been hectic trying to make everything presentable while working full time... and Matt, well, he was helpful, but less than might have been welcome. He tries, but ultimately he couldn't seem to manage to find the time. Laughable, since I work just as much as does he and I found the time.  But, I digress... my point is, it just seems like it's a lot of work presenting yourself to, well, anyone. Usually, our house is mostly passably cleanish. It's not messy, we keep it picked up, but it's lived-in. We live here and living isn't neat and tidy. Neither of us are house-spouse, so there's no person here dedicated to the upkeep of the house. We have to make time where we can.

So, if you walk on the floor barefoot, your feet will likely get dirty. No matter how hard I try, I can't keep the floors clean. There's dust on the furniture and my dogs have probably made a mess somewhere I haven't discovered yet. If you look behind the doors, there's probably dust on the baseboards and the cat box always needs to be scooped, no matter how often I scoop it. Look under the throw blankets I have neatly draped over the arms of the sofa and you'll find that said arms are a little torn up thanks to a naughty cat. The crisper drawers in our fridge could use a scrubbing. Our master shower needs a good hard cleaning and the bedroom carpet needs shampooing... again.

But the alternative seems less than pleasant. Present to anyone the messy truth that you're busy and don't really have any sort of motivation to keep your house super-clean? Show the world that depression often keeps you from giving a damn that the house is a little grimy? Let people see the truth, you're not perfect and neither is your dwelling? That would be nice. Sadly, my anxiety won't let that happen, so while I don't have a lot of motivation thanks to depression, anxiety makes it impossible to leave it be.

So I scrubbed the place down and, well, it looks really good. We got wax warmers to hide the slight animals-live-here-too smell the house takes on when you live with critters. I'm proud of the way it looks, but it's just a facade. Something to show the world to prove that you're okay, that I'm okay, and that I function like everyone else when, in reality, everyone else doesn't and neither do I sometimes.

And, we've agreed to try to keep it clean, to try to work a little every day to make the house look good all the time. The reality? That will not happen. It won't. That's the same lie I tell myself after I've spent the whole weekend doing ten loads of dishes--I'll keep it up, now that it's clean. But, whatever underlying thing made me less-than-motivated to keep it up last time, it's still there. It's still making it impossible to keep it clean now. I can try and I certainly will, but it won't stay like this. I'm just trying to enjoy it while it does.

But, I'm thankful for having a good reason to do the cleaning in the first place. The house needed it and without something to give me the push I needed, it would likely have gone on looking a bit of a wreck. My in-laws coming has given me a good reason for some good hard spring cleaning and I'm grateful. It's been lovely seeing them, too, which makes it all the more worth it. Wish us luck keeping things this way!

Struggling...

I've been having such a hard time lately. The hardest time I remember having in a long time and, well, I have no idea how to get back to a happy place. Zero idea. It's a deep, dark funk and I'm stuck. All the way stuck.

In fact, I had such a hard week last week that I about turned-tail and ran my ass right back to Texas. It's the last place I remember being happy. It's my home, even though we left almost two years ago. I want to go home. That its not even close to being an option, that didn't matter last week.

I spent the whole week obsessing about whether or not I could, feasibly, go back to Texas and how that work work with Matt staying in Utah. The logistics would be a nightmare, but last week, I'd have been willing to accept that. I was in a dark, dark hole and going back to Texas was the only way I could see to climb out.

I have friends there who would let me stay with them. I could get a job and pay them rent. I still have a Texas drivers license. I could see myself going. Matt wouldn't entertain the idea, because, you know, it's ludicrous. He wouldn't even discuss it except to say that someday, maybe, WE would go back there. We. Not me, but we.

This week, I can see how crazy that is. Except the thought still lingers, even now. But you know, Matt is a whole lot of what made Texas my home. Without him in it, I don't know that I want to go back.... at least that's how I feel in my more sane moments. In the moments when I'm more tired or more depressed, I think I could do it. I could go back.

The whole crazy scheme is fed by the fact that we don't see one another much, working opposite shifts. And soon, his shift will change and we'll see one another even less. It's so incredibly hard. I know there are women who manage to get by without seeing their husbands for long periods of time and still stay sane, and happy, but I'm never going to be one of those women. I need for us to spend time together.

Not seeing one another leads me down the dark path where I feel like if I can't see my husband, I might as well have something and Texas is that something. My brain says, "you don't see one another much now, and you're miserable in Utah." I tell myself that maybe Texas would make me happy again, at least in some small aspect, and that would allow me to gain a little control over my life.

Because, ya know, I don't have any of that right now. Control over my life. I go where Matt goes, I do what Matt wants to do, and I wonder when the last time I did something for myself was. And, I can't remember, at first... then I remember 1999, when I moved to Texas. That was it. That was the last time something was at least a little bit about me.

Then the cycle starts over. This week, I know it's not an option. Because, well, it's not. I want to be close to my husband, I want to see him when I can and find a way to see him more, and there isn't any way that could happen if we're living 1,200 miles apart. So, I'm here and I'm looking for something.

Nothing yet, but maybe tomorrow that something will occur to me. Maybe.