August 2, 2011
Part of the Big Sky Big Dreams blog series.
Coming to you live from Happy Hour at Billy's Burger's, downtown historic Jackson, WY.
Oh yeah, baby. I love vacation. Bring on the beef burgers.
Fifteen years ago this month Damien and I were married. Part of this trip out west is an anniversary vacation for us, the longest time we've been alone since having children. We're loving it.
I've been delighted to discover I love being with this man as much as ever. We're half-way through these child raising yearsand it's encouraging to realize we still share the very essence of who we are in common. It's not just our children that bind us together.
It's friendship, commitment, faith, love, a sense of adventure and healthy dose of fun. We're the same people we were when we got married, only we've gotten better with age.
We still have our misunderstandings and more recently we're figuring out the give and take of raising kids, caring for home, earning a livelihood, and making our individual and family dreams a reality. But there is no other person on earth I'd rather share this journey with. You're the one for me babe.
In honor of being married to this amazing man for fifteen years (and in the spirit of our adventurous trip) I'm re-posting one of my favorite posts I've written about our marriage. I originally published this last year at our outdoors blog. It's all still true today. Even more so.
This month we celebrated fourteen years of marriage. We committed "till death do us part" so we're in for the long haul. Fourteen isn't as much as 25 or 30 but it's on the way there. It's a milestone worth marking.
When I made my vows as a young woman there were many things I didn't know about this man with whom I share my heart, body, struggles, hopes, plans, toil, children, memories and laughter. But I knew the really important things: he was committed to his faith, was a man of his word, valued family and cherished me. What more was there to really know?
Of course there was more to know and I spent our pre-marriage days finding out all I could about this man to judge if he would be a suitable partner for the rest of my life. I had a mental checklist and I seriously critiqued him in those most important areas (and some not so important) before I even allowed myself to consider "falling in love". But when I fell baby, boy did I ever. Damien is the center of my world and it feels scary and vulnerable to admit such intense devotion to my husband.
I know I've written a little about that here before. And I also know that writing about matters of the heart is a bit of a deviation from trip reports, minimalist shoe reviews and backpacking tent recommendations. But I can honestly say behind all those techy/gear type posts is a marriage partnership and shared activity between an adventure-loving husband and a learning-to-love adventure wife. The heartbeat of everything we do together and write, even gear reviews, is our love for each other.
Damien's love for me was his giving up competitive cycling because it interfered too much with family time. Then finding a new physical activity we could all do together and patiently encouraging us every step of they way. Never forcing, but leading in love. Love is his research and planning to get gear to keep me comfortable, safe and warm. It's carrying my camera and sometimes even my pack when I'm miserable and dare I say, a pain in the ass.
My role in all of this has been mostly responsive; it is realizing that outdoor adventures make him happy and choosing to follow because loving this man means loving adventure.
How ironic, and perhaps not so surprising, that this innate interest of his is both so attractive and compelling to me (I am inspired by people who push the boundaries) and at the same time exasperating. And I guess this is one of those things that I didn't realize when I married this man; how much I'd grow and change for the better in choosing to support, embrace and learn to love something he loves.
I am not trying to say "look at me, aren't I the model wife". If only you could see the tears of self-pity I've shed, the shameful outbursts on the trail and the woes-me complex I sometimes carry around. Pathetic.
Marriage means sacrifice. It means giving up of ourselves to help our spouses realize their dreams and potential. Walking hand in hand with someone, helping them become who they were meant to be. Isn't this the best gift we can give each other?
Of course this sacrifice goes both ways and I would not want you to think I'm the one who has given up the most. I'm fairly certain that is not the case. We don't keep tabs on that in our relationship but I'm pretty certain Damien has given up more for me. Being the sole provider for years, being steadfast in that responsibility so I can stay home and fulfill my dream as a stay at home mother, homemaker, homeschooler. This was my ambition. And Damien makes it possible.
I love this man so much and if what he wants from me is to walk with him through the woods and up mountains (literally and figuratively) why wouldn't I?
Yes, it scares the socks right off me somedays to hear him dream and plan our next life adventure. And the truth be known I don't particularly like sweating and sometimes I feel so tired on the trail I want to fall down and throw a tantrum. But we work through those issues (and a host of others) because that's what you do when you're married. I'm pretty sure that's somewhere in our vows.
I might not have realized Damien was such an adventurous guy when we married. But likewise there was no guarantee he'd be such a great husband and father. So if having adventures with me is what he wants I'm trusting and holding on for the ride.
Renee Tougas participates in affiliate marketing, including the Amazon Services LLC Associates Program. Whenever you buy something on Amazon from a link you clicked here, I get a (very) small percentage of that sale. See disclosure for further explanation.
You can subscribe to comments on this article using this form.
If you have already commented on this article, you do not need to do this, as you were automatically subscribed.