Love is in the (salty) air
This time, I come to you from the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. The past few weeks have been a marathon of travel. The disorganization of work and absence from being inside the gyms has felt overwhelming at times, but I'm proud that I've been able to stay flexible and present wherever my two feet have been planted. Currently, they are planted on the deck of cabin room 622. I am met with salty air and the sound of the ocean splashing against the ship. A cruise ship. Ted and I are joined by 12 other couples from the St. Louis chapter of EO (Entrepreneur's Organization). I feel so grateful for this opportunity. The chemistry and bond of this organization is special. There's an inherent understanding and loyalty that runs deep. As a first-time entrepreneur, I learn so much and am often reminded to slow down. So, I guess I am.
This marks the first trip of the year for Ted and me. We have an annual goal of four trips a year, no kids. At first, it felt like a ridiculous endeavor. Unnecessary, lavish, and wasteful – even with the majority of our time alone being spontaneous staycations or road trips to Chicago. This is year three and with 8+ trips under our belt, I now understand that this focus isn't wasteful, it's critical (for us, in this season of our life).
For years, Ted and I have taken turns prioritizing our businesses and children over our marriage. “Marriage is forever," we thought, so it always came last. We each felt a calling towards our work and the excitement of pursuing our passion dimmed the light on our own love. We once had a light that we shared that guided us in the direction of our dreams. With time, we found ourselves each carrying our own light. A weaker light, never as strong, and always in search of the other. Walls were built. We slowly forgot how to listen. The effortless affection that we each poured into our children took away from our own connection. We deserved better and we both knew it.
After all, if marriage is forever, but brings heartache to the table, forever suddenly seems too long. That life isn't for me. This life we have in front of us is too short to live in regret, resentment, or sadness. When we're not paying attention, our life drifts in these directions. The trips we take intentionally keep us on course, and teach us how to prioritize “us” over everything else.
Here's what I've learned in the last few years:
A marriage without effort is a marriage silently suffering.
If I want my children to have a great relationship one day, it's my job to show them what it looks like.
Poor communication builds walls. No communication builds taller walls.
Walls never self-destruct on their own. Buy a hammer and get to work.
It's possible to be a great parent and prioritize your children second.
Not all therapists are created equal. If you haven't found “the one,” keep looking. (Mika Ross has my vote!)
Every marriage struggles. Don't believe (and certainly don't compare) those relationships that appear to be perfect from the outside. I call BULLSHIT.
To receive, we must first give. Withholding love only brings us pain in the long run.
You cannot grow a healthy dream in toxic soil. (Thank you, Aly ❤️)
We are the gatekeepers to our own happiness. No one is coming to save me…or you.
Perhaps you can relate in some way. If so, I encourage you to join me in this effort to do and be better. To let go of the hurt and step over your own pride to aid in your own healing and joy. Stop pointing fingers. No more excuses. No more settling for mediocrity. To chase the discomfort of change. We may share different paths and past experiences, but we are all united in our pursuit of happiness.
What part resonates with you? What has helped you feel more connected to your spouse/significant other?
