MY IMPERFECT LOVE STORY

And Why We Need To Stop Romanticizing Romance

When I first met my husband, I was still in love with someone else. That is not how I ever imagined my “love story” would go, but that’s the problem with expectations around what romance will look and feel like. The reality is never as polished because life is inherently messy. It very rarely goes the way we think it should.

Now that John and I are happily together and in it for the long haul, it would be easy for me to rewrite our history into something that it wasn’t. I could sink into the ever popular “meant to be” narrative and avoid all the distasteful bits. But I don’t think that would serve anyone. The more we romanticize romance rather than talking about it truthfully, the more people get in their own way when it comes to finding a partner because they are looking for a trajectory that rarely exists.

Humans are drawn to story. It’s how we start to make sense of the world around us and relate and learn from other people. That’s why I think it’s important that we share untraditional love stories. It shows other people that you don’t have to follow the same standard set of steps to find yourself in a healthy and happy relationship.

I have been to two different weddings where if you didn’t know any better, you’d think the couples had just fallen in love without any obstacles* (*other people) in their way. While I understand the instinct to present a newly married couple’s love as an untarnished and undeniable thing, it’s simply not realistic.

So, in an effort to peel back the varnish of my own marriage, here are some imperfect moments that ultimately led me to where I am today: in realistic love with a wonderful guy who is currently shopping for our groceries.

When John and I met over FaceTime I was only a few months out of my broken engagement. I was not over my ex and still harbored fantasies that he would realize he’d made a big mistake and return. Meeting and connecting with John did not change this right away. My attraction and interest in him weren’t enough to snap me out of my feelings for someone else. At dinner one night, a few months into dating, John asked me what I would do if my ex came back. I decided to be honest and told him I didn’t know what I would do. He nodded and we kept eating. I ultimately got over my ex while I was with John. In fact, he was one of the people who helped me process the loss the most, even though I had been taught this type of thing was taboo.

The first time I met John in person after a month of long-distance dating, I was not excited. Instead, I felt like throwing up and running away. We had already built an intense emotional connection over the phone but had never been in the same physical space before. The pressure for it to go well was suffocating. If my tolerance for discomfort was one iota less, I probably would have canceled and moved to the woods, never to date again. This anxiety didn’t go away the moment I opened the door. Instead, we both needed a drink and puff to calm down and act like regular people.

I told John “I love you” for the first time by accident. He had just met my parents and I was saying goodbye to him at the front door of my old apartment while my parents stayed back in the living room. Without thinking, I blurted out “love you” as part of my send off and immediately felt embarrassment take over my body. He opened his mouth in surprise, but instead of letting him say anything I shot my hand out to cover his mouth. Unfortunately, I missed the mark and ended up curling my fingers against his lower teeth before declaring “we’ll talk about this later!” and slamming the door. We didn’t talk about it later though because I was too mortified. Luckily, he told me he loved me, too, about a week later.

We didn’t celebrate our first anniversary because we had just moved into a new house that had a major gas leak. I was also scheduled to have serious knee surgery later that same week. The first few months of us officially living together were filled with excruciating pain and John helping me put my pants on. It was probably one of the roughest times in both our lives.

I picked out my own engagement ring on a random weekend and I wasn’t even wearing a cute outfit. This was after we had already started to plan our wedding without even being engaged because venues fill up and we wanted a summer wedding. When our wedding planners asked to hear our engagement story, we had to confess that it hadn’t happened yet. We did everything out of order, and I would constantly joke, “4 p.m. is a good time to propose” once I knew the ring was in the house. I can tell some people find it unromantic and odd that I picked out my own engagement ring. That bothers me, but only a little bit.

On the day of our wedding, we had a historical tropical storm AND an earthquake. After months of planning, we had to move our ceremony from a beautiful roof to a rain-proof tent. I didn’t get to take pictures with my bridal party outside as planned and I had to get dressed in the bathroom of the venue instead of my bridal suite so my dress wouldn’t get wet. I will forever remember my niece holding out her arms for me to give her my clothes as I stripped naked next to a sink.

Our honeymoon included attending our good friends’ wedding in Tuscany. One of my ex-boyfriends was there. I spent part of my honeymoon with my ex-boyfriend. That is just a real thing that happened to me.

For someone who loves love so much, I would not describe myself as a romantic. And I actually think this has been a saving grace for me. Throughout our relationship, I haven’t viewed these various mishaps and hurdles as a “sign” that things aren’t right. I don’t believe that my ambivalence at the beginning was a signal John wasn’t “the one.” Instead, I think of it all as proof that a broken heart can heal. Especially when it’s held with care by someone new.

Our story shows that you don’t have to hit all the right steps at the right time to get to where you want to be. It’s not about how well your story fits into what we’ve preordained as romantic as a society. It’s about how well it fits for you and the other person you’re writing it with. 

xoxo,

Allison

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