If I Fell

Recently, I spent the weekend at my parents’ house. My husband was out of town on a business trip for 10 days, and it seemed like the perfect opportunity to spend some time with a few of my favorite people. I love spending time with my family, and even an hour with them is always a little rejuvenating.

I had some good laughs with my brother; I went on a few walks with my dad; I went to a lecture with my mom; we all went to church on Sunday; I got some home-cooked meals, and life just felt a little more magical by the time I was driving to work on Monday morning.

On Sunday night, we had a cookout. My dad grilled burgers, and although it was the end of January, we ate outside. This would definitely be a perk of unpredictable Houston weather. Two years ago on the same date, I remember my boss was calling off work due to ice, and now here we were in short sleeves grilling burgers and pretending we were minutes away from the ocean on a cooler June evening.

My parents just got a new sound system, and we had The Beatles playing all afternoon. At one point, my parents’ song, “If I Fell,” came on, and they promptly stopped what they were doing to dance to it.

As I watched these two people I admire so much dance to a song they so loved, I thought about their story. It’s quite magical.

My parents met on their very first day of college at St. Lawrence University. My dad was one of the freshman boys who was helping people move their stuff into the dorms, and my mom happened to be one of the people he helped.

This was only the beginning of their wonderful friendship. Freshmen year, my dad dated the girl who was then my mom's sophomore roommate. Without any explanation, my mom’s roommate broke up with him on the first day back from summer vacation. My dad was crushed and turned to my mom as a friend wondering what happened. In addition, my mom broke up with her boyfriend half-way through the year. Mom never talks about this boyfriend, but I’ve always gotten the impression that he deserved the dumping he got. Soon after, my parents found themselves drawn to each other at every event they both attended.

February of that year rolled around and my dad’s fraternity (SAE, if you are wondering) had a party coming up. My dad was sitting at lunch one day with one of his friends and saying he had no idea whom to invite. This brilliant friend (who was later the best man in my parents’ wedding) suggested my dad invite my mom. At first, my dad shot the idea down saying they were just friends and he didn’t want to jeopardize that. Mr. Brilliant reminded him that if my dad didn’t ask her, someone else would, and they would end up talking to each other the whole night anyway, so why didn’t he save himself the trouble and ask her himself?

A few seconds later, my mom walked by, and the wheels began to turn for my dad.

Sure enough, he asked my mom out to his fraternity’s party. Even though my mom didn’t want to jeopardize their friendship either and was also hoping someone else would ask her, she accepted the invitation.

That night, they saw each other at a hockey game and walked over to a fraternity party that played a Beatles and Beach Boys count-down. “If I Fell” by The Beatles came on, and they turned and sang it to each other.

It was only 10 days after my parents' first date when my mom called her mom and told her she had just started dating the man she was going to marry. After she got off the phone, my mom dashed off to class. On the way out of her dorm, she ran into my dad. My dad said the moment he saw my mom walking out of her dorm and rounding the corner for him, he knew my mom was the one. As he has put it when he tells the story, "It was like seeing my whole future walking toward me."

Later that evening, my dad asked my mom what she had been doing that day. As she ran through the events of the day, she mentioned talking to her mom before running into my dad on her way to class. My dad paused, looked at my mom and said, “You told your mother we’re getting married.” If you know my dad, you probably know about his uncanny ability to read minds. Though my mom was a little floored at his accuracy, that was it. From then until their wedding day that was still 2 years away, life turned from "If I Fell" to "Wouldn't It Be Nice."

They were married on June 21, 1975 - a few weeks after college graduation and at the young age of 21.

When I was little, I loved that story. It was one I could listen to over and over again and never get tired of hearing (or telling myself). There was a time in my life where it was almost painful to think about, because I accepted it was true for my parents, but I was sure that it was never going to be that magical or wonderful for me. Life is life, and magical stories like theirs are rare. Even magical stories have ended in divorce.

I know there are some of you out there reading this and feeling this way – for whatever reason. Maybe you’re single and you’ve never been in a relationship. Maybe you’ve had your heart broken one too many times. Maybe you’re divorced and think you’ll never love or trust anyone again. Maybe your spouse has passed on and you feel like finding great and true love is like winning the lottery: incredibly rare and only happens once.

Once upon a time, I felt that way. I would hold onto a story like my parents’ and just hope and have an empty prayer that maybe I might have one half as magical.

But here’s the thing: God knows your desires better than anyone else does – often better than you yourself do. And even in your darkest hour, He’s still there pulling you through and providing good, because that’s what He is: Good. Always.

I always knew this in my heart, but I remember that empty, lonely feeling of hopelessness that made me want to curl up in a ball and disappear for a while when life threw a curve I felt I couldn’t hit. But sometimes, when you don’t even know it, something completely magical is waiting around the corner, and if you just stop and sit on a bench feeling sorry for yourself, you’ll miss the wonderful blessing that’s waiting for you until you pick yourself up, and move forward because that incredible future is only steps away.

So, to whoever you are and however you celebrate, whether you are happy or just on the verge, whether you know your blessings or are wondering what your blessings are, God’s got this one.

All you have to do is Trust. Sit back, relax, and have a very Happy Valentine’s Day.

Wedded Comfort

Isn't he cute?! I really like him...

It’s hard to believe it, but Jake and I just celebrated our 4th wedding anniversary. In some ways, I’m so used to our marital life that it’s hard to imagine life before. However, our actual wedding day feels like it was just seconds ago.

On our first anniversary, Jake began a tradition that we’ve carried on every year, and now it’s something that I almost yearn for and crave by the moment it comes. Each year, we’ve gone out to dinner at a nice restaurant, but my favorite part is the conversation we have. We talk about the year we’ve just had and we talk about what we’re grateful for; what went well, and what needs a little bit of tweaking for the year that’s coming up.

We actually have these conversations all the time as far as talking about what’s going well and what could use a little TLC in our relationship, but the conversation we have on our anniversary is my favorite of the year. I suppose it’s because each year has had its own progress and beauty with it, and I have felt so grateful for how far we’ve come.

As we close out year four and think about year five that we’re already a week into, there’s something that I thought was important to write on: marital comfort. I’ve written on this topic before, but not quite in this fashion. I know I’ve written on the conversations I had with my mom when I was younger about how important it is to marry the right person which is ultimately someone you can be yourself with, but here’s something I wasn’t expecting. Your comfort level with your spouse grows each year. Or, at least, mine has.

When I think about our first year of marriage, I was still having trouble with new married life. This isn’t to say I didn’t like it then or that I have it down perfect now. It’s grown each year. Something I have realized is that you really can’t judge exactly how married life is going to go by the end of year one. There is always room for more progress and more love. I’ve talked about love growing more and more each day – sometimes, even each moment. But what I’ve found more than anything else is that my actual comfort level with Jake has grown so much. I’m pretty sure that if you asked me what I was most comfortable with at the end of year one – my pre-marital life with my parents or my marital life with my husband – I probably would have answered pre-marital life.

That’s not to say I didn’t love my husband or our life together. I did. I just felt like I was still figuring things out. I suppose it’s sort of like buying a pair of shoes. You go shopping and you find that perfect pair of shoes. They’re the perfect color and shape and they fit you like a glove. As you walk around the store ensuring they’re going to be comfortable on your feet, your mind wanders to your closet and all the cute outfits you could pair with them and the shoes become even more unbelievably perfect. You happily make your purchase, bring them home, wear them for a day at work, and you come home with a big blister. If you’re smart, you realize it’s a new pair of shoes that you just need to break in – not take back. You don’t love them any less, but after a day of wearing them, you’re a little sore. Your feet don’t feel like their normal comfortable selves yet, but after wearing the shoes a couple more times, your feet are happy little clams and the blister becomes a faint memory. Besides, even with the blister you felt like a million bucks and as an added bonus, all you heard was how great your new shoes were.

I thought about far we’ve come as we were talking at dinner this year. It made me really take stock of how I had come as a married woman, but it also made me feel sad for marriages that don’t make it past the first year or the marriages that aren’t supposed to happen in the first place. It made me wonder how many of those marriages were supposed to end and how many just needed a little TLC. But most of all, it made me feel even more grateful for my marriage and the incredible man I get to spend it with.

Marriage is a two-way street and it takes two people to love and care for it. I love that I married someone that this matters to. It matters to him if I’m not happy, not acting like myself, or if I need a little extra love. It matters to him if I’m happy – especially if it’s because of something he’s done so that he can repeat it. It matters to him if I am not my best, and it matters to him enough that he wants to help me get back up to my best if I’m not at it. That goes the same way for me. It matters to me that my husband is happy and joyful and acting like the wonderful man I know he is. The way we talk to each other matters. The way we relate to one another and the way we treat our home and our marriage matters. We matter. He matters. I matter. And because of it, our marriage is always progressing.

I don’t mean to say we’re perfect. After all, our marriage is only 4. It’s a little baby in preschool with a lot to learning to do. There’s a lot that we haven’t had to experience yet – like a big move (we moved from Boston to Houston, but it happened separately at the time!), buying a house, or having kids. However, for where we are and where we’re headed, I’m happy and excited and so is he, and that’s the best thing I could possibly ask for.

Happy 4th Anniversary, Mr. Lowe. I love you!

Oh, if you’re curious as to where we’ve gone for our anniversary dinners, see the list below.

1. Top of the Hub in Boston, MA

2. Spindletop in Houston, TX

3. Sorrento in Houston, TX

4. Antica Osteria in Houston, TX

With much, much love always,

If you follow me on your Facebook newsfeed or if you’ve paid attention to any of my July Instagram posts, you already know I said goodbye to my favorite spot in the world last month. It’s taken me a while to realize what’s made it so hard, but there have been some beautiful things already that have come out of it. Keep reading to the end to find out…I promise it’s worth it.

Jake and I are moving in just a few days and as we have packed up our little apartment, I’ve found quite a few old keepsakes and memories that have been cherished and kept over the years. Though many of them I’ve now forced myself to part with (like random diaries filled with pages of boys I used to like and my old Girl Scout uniform), some have remained precious things that I’ll be taking with me.

There was one in particular that had me all puddly (I know that’s not a word…just go with it) the other night. It was an ordinary birthday card. However, this particular one was from my grandmother and it was sent to me for my 16^th birthday. For those of you that don’t know me well, I had surgery the day before that birthday, and so while turning 16 is seen as a big deal, I have always felt that the large influx of cards that year was due to my bed-ridden state rather than the “major” age I was turning.

This particular card was especially significant. Here is what the card itself read:

This is a time to reflect

on the childhood years

you’ve left behind

and to think of the special

young woman

you’re becoming.

And as you think of these things,

you should feel proud

of all that you’ve done

and all that you are…

and you should remember

how very important you are

to those who love you.

Have a Wonderful Birthday

It had a handwritten note just after it:

Whichever day you celebrate it! Am thinking of you constantly and praying that you come through your surgery with flying colors as you do everything else. And I especially hope, my dearest Phronsie*, that you won’t be too uncomfortable afterwards. Better days are coming, I know! Don’t get discouraged.

Your mother said you wanted to buy a hair straightener so I am hoping that the enclosed check will cover it. If this is not enough, please let me know, and I’ll send you the difference.

With much, much love always,

Your GaGa

Her note made me feel peaceful and connected to her again in a simple way I had almost forgotten about. She passed on almost 10 years ago, and her note reminded me of some things that are important that I’ll talk about at the end of the post.

When I was younger, I loved visiting GaGa. Whether it was at her house on Cape Cod or at her home in Florida, I loved spending time with her. In many ways, I admired her so much. She was the perfect mix of proper and mischief. She had the wonderful grandparent quality of “shhhh…don’t tell your mother…” but made me sit up straight and kept me on my toes with my pleases and thank-yous. On top of it, she had a wonderful way of enjoying life. Whether she was with me, by herself, or with friends, she just enjoyed.

I remember always being elated at the site of her in her bathrobe at her kitchen table by herself. Usually, it was early and no one else was awake yet, and the two of us would have breakfast. She would always say, “As my mother would say, ‘Did you sleep any?’” It always made me smile.

Our days together would sometimes consist of running errands to her little places like Snow’s (one of her Cape favorites), the grocery store, or lunch at the Chatham Beach and Tennis Club. The last one often involved a tennis lesson, and on really rare, special occasions, a famous CBTC chipwich (vanilla ice-cream sandwiched between two large chocolate chip cookies).

I remember the way she drove. She had large, round driving classes that she peered out of and over the steering wheel as we talked and laughed. Her hands were always placed perfectly at their appropriate 10 and 2 positions, and when we sat in silence, I could always tell when she was concentrating because she would purse her lips and slowly move her bottom lip up and down.

Those are just some of the memories that made saying goodbye to the Cape so hard. However, I’m not the only one. There was someone else with a similar relationship that took place in that house: my dad.

You see, the Cape house was built by my great-grandfather. He owned it and the many acres around it for many years. The house was built in 1950. It was completed and ready for beach visits in 1953: the same year my dad first visited at 10 days old.

As my dad grew, so did his relationship with his grandfather, Sturgis (though he called him Grampie). My dad, like me, has similar stories of Grampie teaching him about the house, picking cranberries (the house used to sit on a cranberry bog), and running errands in Grampie's old Jeep. Grampie would say things to my dad like, “Now Hank [my dad’s name is Mark], you’ve gotta watch the road for me since I can’t see it…” My dad’s eyes would get big and Grampie would laugh. My dad is already a pretty happy guy, but he especially lights up when he talks about his grandfather.

Sturgis passed on when my dad was only 16. Because he taught him about the house, my dad knew how to take care of it. He carried on all of his teachings and through it, I could always somehow feel Sturg’s presence in the house. Even though I never met him, he was just always…there, somehow.

My dad had a way of always turning into his best self when we were on the Cape. Really, he’s much better at always being his best self, but on the Cape, he had a way of taking care of things, and truly enjoying the peace and quiet. He had little projects to make the house better, and it created for a little haven. I could always tell it was helping him as much as he was helping it. I didn’t really understand the concept of appreciating what the house had to offer until I had to spend time in it without the main person I loved to visit there.

My grandmother passed on in 2005 when I was 18. Before she passed on that year, I had to spend a summer in the house without her. I didn’t like it. I already knew it was going to be the last year I would be able to talk to GaGa whenever I wanted, and spending the summer in the house without her was not in my favorites list.

That summer, I had moments I would begin to enjoy myself on the beach, but knowing GaGa wasn’t going to be sitting in her usual rocking chair waiting for me when I got home would send me right back into my new-found dislike.

As it turned out, the following summer I was grateful for the summer before. I realized that the summer before had been a buffer to get me ready for life on Cape Cod without GaGa. Though I didn’t totally love it the next summer, I had gotten used to the idea. I also knew that GaGa would not want me hating the Cape just because she wasn’t there with me.

Slowly, I understood that the Cape and the house were a little magical. It reminded me of what it was like to be a kid. Life was simpler in the house without TV. Plus, it had bad cell reception and no internet, and so it forced you to take in, examine, and change things that needed tuning up.

It also involved sweet, uninterrupted time with my family. It reminded me of how blessed I was to have these three beautiful people in my life that loved me unconditionally and had helped raise and shape me into the woman I was becoming.

A couple years later, I was looking for a challenge and I began biking up and down the bike trail that’s a short mile from the house. We were there for 3 weeks, and I went from the first ride of only 7 miles to biking 20 miles a day at least every other day. On top of it, my “beach read” that year was French Women Don’t Get Fat by Mireille Guiliano. I began practicing what the book was preaching and with the two coupled together, by the time I got back home, I had lost 15 pounds. By the time school rolled around, each time someone mentioned how great I looked, I would think back with joy on my little summer of self-improvement that had started on the Cape. 

Two years later, I had gotten “weird” about my relationships with boys. I had ended a 2-year relationship in February, and the one that sort of began after it was a bit of a flop, as well. When the time came for our Cape visit, one night, my mom took me upstairs after dinner and we sat on my bed and talked for a while. She sincerely asked me what exactly was going on. When I blurted out that I thought I wasn’t going to get married because I thought I just wasn't cut out for it, she smiled, told me to really own what I wanted, relax, and the rest would fall into place. That’s the short version, anyway.

I met and began dating my husband a month later.

I was sitting thinking about all of these things as I read over that birthday card the other night. It reminded me why I always felt so much like myself at the Cape house. I just felt so connected, not only to myself, but to the generations before me that had set the tone and example and helped me become the woman I am. Sometimes, visits to the house have been the kick in the pants that I’ve needed to remind myself that I haven’t been doing my best in one area, and what I need to fix to get back to being me. I won’t get into it now, but the last one was especially true just after Jake and I got married.

Though I miss both the house and my grandmother a lot, I’m so grateful for the lessons they’ve taught me – both the ones that were on purpose and the ones that just came naturally.

Perhaps that’s why saying goodbye to something or someone that you love is so difficult. Sometimes when you’re not watching or paying attention, it feels like you’re saying goodbye to a little piece of yourself. The truth is, those things are always yours to take with you: they are there to grow on and grow with and to tweak and make better for the world around you.

I sincerely hope all of you have memories you’re making today that you’ll treasure and take with you. May these be reminders of who you are. May they build you up and remind you of how unique you are and how necessary you are to the world around you. May they remind you that there is only one you and that you’re loved and adored - whether you realize it or not. You ARE loved. Regardless of who you are, I’m absolutely 100% positive that that’s true.

You are loved now and you are loved always.

With much, much love always,

*If you are wondering, GaGa used to call me “Phronsie:” the youngest sibling from The Five Little Peppers book series by Margaret Sidney. Like Phronsie, I have curly blonde hair, and I reminded her of Phronsie when I came along. She has called me Phronsie (or Phrons) for as long as I can remember.

Wedding Must-Haves...

Happy Wedding Season!

As everyone knows, summer months are the most popular wedding months. With so many weddings on the horizon, I thought I would post a few things I either wish I had known going into my wedding, or things that were so important, I couldn’t miss mentioning them in a blog post on weddings. Some of these are things that we did really well, and some of these are things I wish might have gone differently.

Also, I’ve listed things in order of importance. I made a list of things I wanted to include and then I ordered them from most important to least important.

1. Be the kind of spouse you want to marry.

This is sort of an obvious statement. It’s really something you should begin abiding by when you’re single and carry out for the rest of your life. During wedding planning, it’s unfair to expect your groom to be calm, gentile, and joyful and then act like a frazzled, stressed-out mess! If you expect it from your partner, you should be doing it yourself! Listen to each other, talk to each other, be patient with each other, and continue to grow your friendship and not just your love life.

I am tempted to talk about the importance of not stressing out right here, but it deserves its own section. See #3 for this one. 

2. Recognize that your wedding is gratitude to those who have helped shape you into the person you are.

I mentioned this in my last post, but this was a big realization while I was planning my wedding. It also came into play when I was building our guest list and picking my bridesmaids. Regardless of your budget, it’s hard to invite absolutely everyone that is important and means something to you. As I thought about who we would be inviting, I realized that the people I was inviting were people who really meant something to me, had inspired me to be a better person, had taught me an important lesson, had been there for me through thick and thin, and those that I truly and deeply love.

The same goes for my bridesmaids. For me, these were the cream-of-the-crop ladies in my life. Looking back on it now, each bridesmaid represented a different part of my life, and my friendship with that particular girl was one of the best parts of that piece of life. Each and every girl I chose is someone I love and whose friendship has meant the world to me. 

3. Be calm and peaceful.

“Oh! You’re planning your wedding? Wow! Aren’t you stressed?!” I hate that question with the passion of a thousand burning suns. Okay…that’s a bit dramatic, but there is absolutely no reason to get stressed while you’re planning your wedding. Yes, you are giving a big party, yes, getting married is a big deal. However, ultimately, you get to marry the person you love the most in the world in front of other people that you love most in the world. With all that love, you should be the most peaceful you’ve ever been! The notion that wedding planning and getting married are stressful is absolutely 100% unnecessary.

Even on the day itself, if something goes wrong, stay calm! Just remember: at the end of the day you’re #1 goal of getting married will be done! I remember getting my hair done on my wedding day, and after my hair was finished, I went to another part of the salon to check on a bridesmaid who was getting her hair done. The hairdresser doing my bridesmaid’s hair asked, “So, how do you know the bride?” “Oh…I am the bride.” The hairdresser was shocked at how calm I was. Again, stress on and surrounding your wedding is unnecessary. And really and truly, there is no need to be a bridezilla. If you think there is, read #1-3 again. 

4. Make time for each other during the day itself.

There are a lot of people to see during the wedding! Don’t forget why you’re there and what you’re doing. Take pleasure in and savor the moments that are just the two of you. There will be many memorable moments on the day itself that you won’t want to forget, and you’ll want to soak it in and make a permanent memory of them.

I think every couple probably has this, but my favorite from my own day was just after Jake and I walked down the aisle. The moment we were by ourselves, we looked at each other and had this brief moment of, “Oh my gosh! We’re married!”

5. Don’t forget to eat.

I talked to a lot of already married friends while I was wedding planning and one of the #1 things I heard was, “I forgot to eat! By the time I got to the hotel at the end of the night, I was starving!” When I sat down with my contact for our wedding venue (who was essentially our wedding planner), I talked to him about this concern. There were two solutions he helped me come up with that I’ve shared with almost everyone I know before they get married.

The first was having hors d’oeurves by ourselves. Between pictures and going into the reception, Jake and I had a specified secret place where we got a large sampling of what our guests were getting during the mocktail hour (we didn’t serve alcohol) before the reception. This also took care of #4 because we got plenty of time to connect and talk about the day, tell each other fun things about getting ready and just cute moments that we’d already had with our wedding party, our parents, our guests, etc.

During dinner, we spent a lot of that time going around and talking to guests. Plus, there were toasts and dancing, and even on the part of the evening where we were trying to sit there and eat, people want to come up and talk to you. I was expecting that this would happen. Since the hotel where the reception was held is also where we spent our wedding night, the hotel sent up two dinners of our wedding food right down to two slices of our cake. Pardon my pun, but we got to have our cake and eat it, too. 

6. If you need and want to lose weight before the wedding, do it and be done with it.

I worded this one carefully. There a plenty of people out there who want to lose weight but don’t actually need to. If you don’t need to, DON’T! Honestly, be grateful you don’t need to! There are also those who don’t want to lose weight. I applaud you if you’re happy with your body the way it is. So, if you don’t want to (even if societal standards say you need to), don’t!

This is the first thing I’m listing that I didn’t do that I wish I had. While I was pretty calm during wedding planning, there was one big fat meltdown I had. It was a week before the wedding and the gorgeous dress I had picked out in November (I got married in January) didn’t fit. I freaked out, couldn’t believe I had let myself get out of control, and had a very embarrassing meltdown in the dressing room at Nordstrom. The moment of sheer panic, hatred for myself, and just plain embarrassment of that moment is not something I would wish on my worst enemy (although, I don’t have those, anyway). It was a terrible, awful feeling. Looking back now, I wish I had lost the weight for myself, and just been done with it all before I got married. 

7. Make sure your shoes are comfortable.

I wanted to be the perfect bride, and I was convinced the perfect bride needed to wear beautiful, white, satin heels on her wedding day. I bought a gorgeous pair that I thought I had broken in. Then my wedding day came and by the end of the night, my feet were dying.

Since we got married, several people have asked, “What’s the first thing you did when you got in the limo?” My answer is always, “I took my shoes off.” I was so happy to get those suckers off my feet. Since my dress was also hemmed exactly to my shoes, I couldn’t go barefoot. Believe me, I tried, but I kept stepping on my dress (as did those around me!), so I had to put them back on.

About a year and a half after I got married, one of my friends got married and she wore pink Converse shoes under her dress. Because of what I went through on my wedding day, I thought it was the most brilliant plan I had ever heard.

I’m not saying you have to go all Father of the Bride and wear tennis shoes (although you absolutely can and should if you want to), but do make sure your tootsies are comfortable…or be prepared to deal with the consequences.

8. Watch your veil.

Okay, this one is a really odd one to list in here. I’ve never talked to another bride about this one, but it’s not something I thought of and I wish I had known it on the day of the wedding.

I had a fabulous hairdresser for my wedding. My hair came out exactly as I wanted. My hair had curls that were built into the most gorgeous up-do I could have imagined. Plus, she built a place in my bun for me to put my veil so that I could put it in and take it out easily. My hair was held in place by 52 bobby pins (yes…I counted), and about half a can of hairspray. My plan was to put the veil in when I got in my dress and then take it out some time between post-ceremony pictures and the reception.

What I didn’t anticipate is that after the ceremony, people began immediately coming up and hugging me. What no one (except me) knew was that which each hug came a big tug that was slowly pulling my hair out of place. I tried to take my veil out, but when I would lift up my hands to take the veil out of my hair, another person would move in and give me a big hug. It happened in a big rush and it happened before I could really do anything about it. By the time I had to take pictures, my hair was a mess. I tried to piece it back together, but it wasn’t the same. My incredible maid-of-honor even tried, but it was really hard to try and piece it all back together when there had been so much tugging it out.

Again, it’s a small detail, and you can’t really tell in pictures, but just watch your veil. If you can take it out after the ceremony, it’s worth it. 

9. If you’re one of the few left who leave the “first time” for your wedding night, don’t be nervous!

I hemmed and hawed over whether or not to list this last one, but I felt it was important so I left it in. This is not meant to be judgmental whether you decided to wait or not.

I am in favor of waiting, but if you didn’t – whether you meant to and just couldn’t help yourself (understandable!) or you did your research and went ahead and did it on purpose or you think I’m an idiot for telling people to wait, no big deal.  If you did, congratulations! You made it!

A few things: if you’re nervous, don’t be! Talk to your partner if you are. It might be magical the first time, but it might not be. If it’s not, don’t worry. It will be. It’s certainly something you can get good at if you’re not at first. The bottom line is that you love each other, you’re committed to each other, and you’re celebrating your love for each other in one of the best ways possible. Just remember to be patient with yourself and your spouse.

Also, if you’re still in the dating world, if you’re planning on waiting, don’t let anyone try and talk you out of it. Once, a not-so-nice boy tried to tell me that waiting until marriage was overrated. I told him if that were true, than sex must be overrated. Really, if it’s important to you, stick to your guns. If you have the right motive for waiting, you won’t regret it.

I feel it’s also important to say that if you do wait, be careful on being judgmental with those who choose not to (whatever their reasons). It’s a touchy subject. There are many that didn’t wait and wish they had. When you’re judgmental, you never know when you may tearing someone down on something they already beat themselves up about.

That about sums it all up. For those of you that are getting married soon, I wish you all the best! May your wedding day be the day you love each other the least, but may you love each other more than you thought possible on the day itself. Love to each and every one of you!

Who's your BFF?

Once when I was little, I asked my mom who her best friend was. Without skipping a beat, she quickly answered, “Daddy!” I remember rolling my eyes and telling her to be serious. I thought she was giving me an oddly generic answer. Plus, how could you be best friends with a boy? Boys were hyper, loud, smelly, and dirty.* Who would want to be friends with one?

As I watched my parents over the years, I realized my mom was serious. Yes, they’re romantic and cutesy, but they laugh together and are really goofy. They can finish each other sentences and know each other better than anyone else.

As I got older, boys weren’t always hyper. As I began friendships with them, I realized they weren’t always so smelly. Or dirty. Or loud. Once I started these large realizations, I realized I wanted to marry someone I would most definitely call my best friend. Without meaning to (or articulating it my head), I had made up a rule that you had to be friends for at least a year before you even liked whoever you were going to marry in order to marry your best friend.

I’m sure you’ve heard the saying, “If you want to make God laugh, tell Him your plans.” If that’s true, I’m sure He was laughing hysterically.

One thing I’ve learned is when you’re dealing with anything important in life that’s divinely inspired, God’s Law is always the exception to the human rule you’ve made in your head.

Most people know the story of my meeting my husband, Jake. We met on August 21, 2010 and began dating 3 days later. The day we began dating, I remember we had just talked about being in a relationship before Jake used a sentence that required him to call himself my boyfriend. I remember my stomach doing a little flip-flop. Weren’t boys supposed to be timid and wait months before referring to themselves as a boyfriend?

To top it off, he gave me a big hug and said, “You know we’re getting married, right?”

I knew that unlike my last sarcastic boyfriend, Jake meant it. What was both extremely exciting and slightly terrifying to me was that I knew he was right.

I waited the longest 10 seconds of Jake’s life before saying, “Yup. I know…”

With that, we talked about marriage ALL.THE.TIME. Did I mention our relationship was long-distance on top of it?

By October, we had discussed and picked a wedding date: February 11, 2012. This later got changed since it worked better for the venue wanted and what was going on in our lives in general. We actually got married a month earlier on January 14.

In November, Jake flew to Houston to spend two weeks with my parents, my brother, and me. It also fell over Thanksgiving.

In December, I flew to see Jake to spend Christmas with him, his parents, and his brother. I stayed for a week.

Next we spent 5 months apart. Though we had been told that long-distance was death to even the best of relationships, we ignored it. We talked on the phone every day. Without the physical quotient of our relationship, friendship was really all we had and what we focused on. I think we both knew that if we began focusing on what we didn’t have, it wouldn’t be good or fair to either one of us. Plus, whenever one of us (let’s be real, this was always me) began to have trouble with not seeing the other, we would talk about it until the other felt peaceful.

During all of this time, Jake quickly became my best friend. He was the one I couldn’t wait to talk to at the end of the day. On top of it, though wedding planning was fun and I was excited for a big day, I really just wanted to get to the good stuff that comes after the wedding. I just wanted normal everyday life to begin. I knew there were people that thought we were too young and naïve to realize that marriage was work and thought were crazy to get married when we only knew each other from afar.

How did we really know each other? How were we sure we’d found “The One” in each other? Weren’t we a little young? Why did we have to get married now?

During the 11 months that we were long distance, we got to know each other really well. On top of talking on the phone, we also Skyped a lot. Actually when we skyped, it was often for hours and hours on end. I would carry my computer around while I did seemingly mundane things like laundry and making dinner, and for the most part, it bridged the gap of feeling like our relationship was long-distance. I know most people would freak out over lack of the physical in a romantic relationship, but it just wasn’t a big deal. We couldn’t wait to share our days with each other and I always looked forward to each moment we got to spend together.  

As far as how quickly we got married and why we had to get married NOW, I can best relate it to the famous line in When Harry Met Sally: When you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with someone, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.

Actually, even though we were looking forward to our wedding, we had talked about eloping, not telling anyone, and having the wedding anyway. We didn’t tell anyone that, but my mom somehow figured it out by how I was talking about Jake. Right around the time we had talked about it, she sat me down, and said, “I don’t care if you elope, but don’t you dare get married without letting your families see it. I don’t care: we’ll skip the wedding, Dad and I and the Lowes will watch it wherever. Just don’t get married without our being able to see it.”

We quickly decided against a secret elopement. It also helped me realize that having a ceremony is gratitude to those who have helped guide and shape you into the person you are; the person who should be marrying the spectacular person who is about to become your spouse.

Right around the time Jake proposed, I realized how quickly he had become my best friend. I thought about my “rule” about being friends first in order to marry your best friend in order to avoid getting married out of lust in order to avoid divorce.

…and that’s when it hit me: Love has no formula.

There’s really no formula to how you become friends with anyone. It just happens. It happens when you’re not looking, not planning, and not asking for it. It falls in your lap.

Honestly, I think even for those who actively look for their spouse online and are on specific dating sites, the person you end up marrying isn’t necessarily the person you always pictured growing up. In the end, that doesn’t matter.

I thought I would marry someone who was older and tall with straight, blonde hair (and the complexion to go with it). The man I married is younger, average height, and the half-black side of his family means he has beautiful tangle of black curls on top of his handsome head.

I also was never attracted to guys with big muscles and classically handsome face. I was convinced these men were “out of my league”** and that it was a recipe for someone who wanted arm candy and had a big, selfish ego. My husband, who was one of the top high school wrestlers in his state and could have gone to college in a full scholarship for it, thought football practice was easy, still has nice-sized biceps even though he never goes to the gym and though he doesn’t at the moment, when we met he had a lovely 8-pack. His face is also pretty nice to look at. On top of it, though he loves when we go somewhere we have to dress up, he once begged me to buy sweat pants, he favors my hair in a “don’t care” ponytail and if you read my second post on this blog, you already know how humble he is. This is not to brag, it’s just to say he’s not what I was expecting.

The point of all of that: those weird rules you make about how your spouse is supposed to be, look, act, etc. don’t really matter. How he/she treats you is paramount, and what kind of person he/she is tends to be pretty important, but beyond that, the friendship quotient of your relationship is one of the key ingredients to a good life together.

The best friend is the glue, if you will, that holds it all together. It’s what makes the everyday fun and the not-so-fun bearable. You would think it’s the romance that does all of this, but it’s really the goofy/everyday that makes it all worth it. Can someone send this to all the contestants on The Bachelor?

I know I write on how grateful I am for my marriage a LOT, but my mom was truly right when she told me it would be the best or worst thing I ever did. I’m pretty grateful that it was the best. Honestly, spending everyday with your BFF is the best anyone could ever ask for, and I’m pretty grateful for mine.

*Not all the time, but my husband is all of those things… #oops

**Note: If you’re reading this as a single person, don’t EVER tell yourself someone is out of your league. It’s a recipe for disaster. Know that you’re whole, complete, and spectacular and at some point, someone fantastic is going to be thanking God that He’s put you in his or her life.

The Song that Changed It All

Often when I get ready for work, I have some music playing. I have various mixes that I’ve made through the years, but sometimes I just let iTunes go on shuffle and let the magic happen on its own. I did the latter earlier this week and the song that came on stopped me in my tracks. I was taken back to the day the song came out and the very first time I heard it.

It was October of 2009. I had just transferred in to a new college. At the time, I had an on-again/off-again boyfriend from the last college I had attended. As of a few months before, we were off-again. On top of it, the guy I had liked for over a month had just started dating my roommate.

Ouch.

I remember sitting in my room alone. These moments were rare since I was in a triple that quarter. I sat there having a big pity party, convinced I was never going to meet anyone. The dream and plan I had devised at age 4 of finding “the one” in college was slowly crumbling away and I began to think there wasn’t anyone for me. I thought I was supposed to find someone by graduation, but that was a mere year and a half away. If I didn’t find him by then, would I find him at all?

I knew what my friends, my parents, and anyone else who heard this story would say.

“Why are you worried about that?”

“You’re so young!”

“No one even needs to get married before 25, anyway.”

“Why are you in such a rush?”

All of these were things I had already heard. I knew in my heart of hearts that this was not something I needed to worry about, but somehow, the worry always seemed to stay.

I remember just trying to feel peaceful. I knew I needed to stop the pity party. If I was supposed to find someone, I would.

But what if I didn’t?

What if I never dated anyone again?

What if I dated a lot, but it was obvious no one was for me?

What if…?

What iffff…?

What if…?

Clearly, my peaceful outlook was succeeding.

I began to try and distract myself. I opened up my computer and clicked around on iTunes. I noticed the “Recommended for You” tab had a new album in it. It was an artist I liked, so without listening to a single song, I clicked the “download” button. The first track that finished downloading was a promotional video of the album’s top song that had been out for a few weeks, and I clicked on it as soon as it would let me watch the whole thing. As it began to play and I listened to the words, my fear quickly and quietly washed away.

As the song ended, I sat there stunned. How could a song be exactly what I needed to hear at the exact time I needed to hear it?  

I realized how many times I had liked or dated someone when it was clear I was being lead somewhere else. As though someone were saying, “Nice try, but…no. I said no. Did you hear me? I said no! Not him! NOT him! NOT HIM!”

Perhaps I needed to listen a little more and stick to my own morals. It wasn’t really fair to me or the guys I was dating to try and shove a square into a circle, was it?

I’m pretty sure I played the song at least 4 times before I left the room. When I got back, I made a mix CD with my new favorite as the first song. I promptly put it in my car so I could listen to it when I was running errands, and I made sure it was loaded onto my iPod so I could listen to it while I was working out.

Shortly after, my dad came to visit, and he got to hear the song several times. After hearing it for the first time, he smiled and said, “Well, that’s certainly a good song for you.”

The song was “Haven’t Met You Yet” by Michael Buble.

The song turned out to be incredibly true. I met my husband 10 months after the song came out. I remember calling my mom to tell her I had met HIM. “Okay, if you took every quality I’ve ever liked from every guy I’ve ever liked, rolled it all into one person and maximized it by 10, you’d have Jake.”

The following October, when Jake and I had been dating for a month and a half, my dad had come for his annual visit when the song came on the same mix CD I had originally made the year before. We were in mid-conversation, but we both stopped and listened to it. I looked over at my dad after it finished and grinned. “See?” my dad said as he blinked back tears, “I told you.”

Yes, Dad, you were right…as usual.

I thought about those moments as I got ready for work. Just after the song finished, my husband came into the bathroom, said good morning, and kissed me on the forehead.  

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

I grinned.

“Oh…nothing. I just love you.”

The Day You Love Each Other Least

As this beautiful year has been wrapping up and I look back on all I have to be grateful for, I was thinking about a wonderful blessing my mother-in-law bestowed upon me before I got married. It was something someone had blessed her with before she got married, and it’s something I think of often.

The blessing is this: May your wedding day be the day you love each other the least.

When I first heard it, I was a little surprised. It sounded odd. Are we not supposed to love each other that much on our wedding day? Au contraire: You should love each other more than you ever thought was possible to love another person. However, your wedding day is not the top of the curve and then your love goes downhill. Your wedding is the starting point to your new life, not the finish line. That love should grow exponentially every day.

My mother-in-law’s blessing has rung loud and true. Jake and I are coming up on our 3-year wedding anniversary next month. Although I loved him more than I thought possible on our wedding day, it’s nothing compared to the love I feel for him now. It’s a different kind of love. It’s a love that makes you grow. You get to grow together now. You have someone to share yourself with who shares himself with you. It’s a love that pulls you through thick and thin in the best and worst of times. It’s a love that both challenges you and makes life easier. It’s a love that makes life far more beautiful than you thought or knew was possible.

When I was younger, my mother told me that marriage would either be the best thing or the worst thing I would ever do. For me, it has been the best thing. I can’t imagine what it would be like if I had married the wrong person. If I had (like if I had married any number of the boys I’d had crushes on growing up), it would be the worst decision I’d ever made.

Tonight I was thinking about the part of marriage that challenges you: the part that makes you a better person. It makes you give of yourself completely and totally unselfishly. Sometimes, that even means saying something that’s hard. It can mean saying something your spouse doesn’t necessarily want to but needs to hear. It’s the tough love you don’t necessarily like to give, but if you truly love the person who needs it, there’s no other choice but to meet the need.

These moments don’t always happen often, but you say it because you love the other person. You want the best for him and so you say it with love and because you know the good he’s capable of and needs to live up to in order to be his true self.

Actually, although they can be hard, my husband and I love these moments. Because it’s said with love and not dripping with sarcasm, guilt, or an eventual IOU (or “you owe me”), it’s a safe place to talk about things that are more challenging. The “This is bothering me” or the “I know your best, but this wasn’t it” conversations. Why? Because sometimes you have to love each other enough to hurt the other person’s feelings. It’s certainly not that you need to hurt their feelings. Having your feelings hurt is a choice you make. I talked a many months ago about the importance of humility. That’s why.

I also don’t mean to hurt your spouse’s feelings on purpose. That’s just mean if that’s your motive. Your motive is (or should be) always to strengthen and help the other person be his best self.

I’m so grateful for this part of marriage. It’s what makes me continue to grow and lets me know how much my husband loves me (more than I could possibly express in words), and how much I love him.

With that said, the romance aspect that you dream of and take a huge part in on your wedding day should also always be intact. It’s what makes this relationship different from any you’ve ever had. It’s why monogamy is so important and why we only share marriage with one person.

I’m so grateful for the romance side of marriage, too. Plus, the smallest things can become huge romantic gestures. Like taking care of each other when you don’t feel well, or vacuuming the house just because, making meals for each other or planning one together.

And then there’s the really big ones: weekends away, travel, carefully planned anniversaries, roses on Valentine’s day, real diamond earrings on big anniversaries, etc.

I think often people are only thinking of the last category with love and marriage instead of all of it. Marriage is more about being with and loving your best friend each and every day and growing in that love together. If you’re doing it right, it does grow every day.

To my mother-in-law, you were most certainly right. AND…to everyone who just recently got or is just about to get married, I wish you the same blessing. May your wedding day be the day you love each other the least.

Believe me, when you get to the day and realize how much love is packed and filled into that one day, to have it grow exponentially everyday after is a pretty remarkable and extremely underrated aspect.

Happy weddings, love birds. Oh, and happy last few days of 2014. See you in the new year!

This is Lauren...over and out.