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Two parts peaches ‘n cream, one part peanut brittle

by | Mar 1, 2024

Before soulmate was a “thing,” I knew in my bones that I had just met mine.

I was driving home from the first day of graduate school and I don’t know how I knew, but I knew, that the person I had met at the wine and cheese gathering several hours earlier would be in my life for the duration of it. So far, that is proving itself to be true.

Opposites in many ways – she is softspoken, I am prone to squawking like a goose, she likes Springsteen, I’m obsessed with Streisand; of the two of us, she is often referred to as “the warm one,” while I’m slightly more (way more) in your face, she’s calm and even keeled no matter what, I’ve been known to smolder, much the way Mt. St. Helena did shortly before she blew – we are bound by our deep values, love of family (both of ours gone now) and a solid respect for one another.

Still, we have widely divergent histories, experiences, sensibilities, losses, dreams, and expectations. It is around these dissimilarities that our relationship has become at once interesting, rich, and challenging. It is our willingness to navigate these differences, rather than steer the other to either of our ways of thinking, that brings the deepest reward.

When my clients ask about my relationship status, I understand the curiosity behind this inquiry, and I answer openly and honestly. I realize it is a question aimed at whether I can relate to their struggles. The answer is most definitely.

To be candid, our journey together isn’t always peaches ‘n cream. In fact, it can be a bit more like peanut brittle. Like any long-term relationship, we’ve weathered our fair share of storms, maneuvered through rough patches, and learned valuable lessons along the way. Mostly about ourselves.

I share this not to boast about longevity or paint a picture-perfect portrait of my personal life, but to emphasize that I, like everyone, face challenges and vulnerability.

Some things that have worked for us, besides Dawn’s unfailing acceptance of me, my flaws and imperfections are a commitment to communication. We talk. Often. And we remind each other to listen. We are mindful of, though not responsible for, one another’s histories and vulnerabilities. We have learned where to tread lightly. We have a habit of thanking each other for the thankless tasks that we do. “Thank you for emptying the dishwasher,” says I. “Thank you for leaving the last few grapes; I know you wanted them,” says she. When a conflict arises, we try to say something, even if it’s only to say that we’re not quite sure what to say. We know that saying something is better than keeping the other guessing. On those rare occasions when one or both of us feels too saturated to talk further or has gotten a little too heated, we take a break. We let one another know that we’ll be back to resume the conversation, and we keep that promise.

We try not to disappoint one another. We are disappointed, nonetheless.

When this happens, we are not shocked. We simply work it through. Humans do human things. We are committed to being self-aware humans, at least as much as we can. More than anything, we understand that love is a verb. Not just a feeling. And we choose it over everything else.

So again, I share this with you not to project a glossy façade, but to emphasize that I am familiar with the joys and challenges of intimate connection. Relationships take work, and my wish for all couples is that they know the value of nurturing theirs. The skills that are necessary for a strong and authentic relationship can be learned. They can be deepened. And they can become the bridge to a beautiful and lasting partnership.