Granted, it's generally in reference to food (she is her own favorite cook), but the way she so freely identifies the things that she loves has always been something I've admired.
I think I find it inspiring because most people seem to harbor an unpronounced fear of showing love or vulnerability of any kind. We're quick to take a stance against things, forming hate-based agendas preceded by innumerable "anti" adjectives.
We jump on bandwagons of boycotting and shaming, but love? That's an unsettling premise that we won't address directly, and when we do, we dilute the expression through humor or some other means of "playing it off."
Tomorrow marks a year since I married my beautiful, precious wife, Molly. And I can wholeheartedly attest to the fact that, in 364 days, I've come to understand love more than the previous 22 years of my life.
But as is with most life experiences, the more I know, the more I realize I don't know. For prosperity's sake, though, here's what this past year of being married has taught me:
1. When it comes to our relationship, three opinions matter: mine, my wife's, and God's.
Regardless of how long they've been married or in a relationship, people are relentless when offering their two-cents worth whether it's warranted, welcome, or none of the above. I've learned to take each new bit of advice with a grain of salt, even from the people closest to me.
Marriage isn't formulaic in nature. There aren't "10 easy steps" to follow, nor are there his and hers guidebooks on making it work. Marriage is an organism that needs to be catered to just like any other living thing. You feed it with communication, you train it with time spent together, and you grow it with love.
2. We fight on a regular basis, and it's a beautiful thing.
I've mentioned in the past how Molly and I maintain our relationship by (verbally) duking it out. This isn't some crazy, masochistic lifestyle we've adopted because we're weird and into stuff like that. Fighting with each other genuinely improves the quality of our relationship.
At the risk of sounding like a marriage counselor, I've come to truly live by the thought that "marriage is a bond between two independent individuals." My personal feelings can, and frequently do, contradict Molly's. Very rarely do we go more than 24 hours without arguing about something. From where we should buy car insurance to which Star Wars movie is the best, our opposing views don't, in any way, degrade the strength of our love for one another.
3. I've come to truly cherish the "little things" about her.
A few days ago, Molly went on a brief trip to visit her grandmother out of state. Although it was only for one day, that night I actually felt the absence of her presence in bed. Everything down to the smell of her hair after she finishes her nightly shower is something I've grown to appreciate and love about her.
I love the way she sets her jaw crooked when she's focusing hard on something, and I can't help but smile at the way she crinkles her nose so gently when she laughs. When I have to get up early in the morning, the steady sound of her breathing is literally one of the most beautiful sounds I've ever heard. With each new day brings new things that I grow to appreciate about her, things I would have previously never even dedicated a passing thought.
4. Marriage isn't a means to an end.
There's a growing stigma within our age group that seems to have everyone thinking marriage is some kind of end game, but that couldn't be further from the truth.
Exchanging vows and rings doesn't initiate a secret plot to turn your life into an episode of Malcom in the Middle. I promise, the moment you're announced husband and wife, you won't suddenly be teleported to a house in the suburbs with three kids and a dog waiting inside.
Marriage, if anything, is the beginning. It's the beginning of one of the coolest adventures you could ever embark on. When you say "I do" to your best friend, you're saying "I do" to every new experience, every hardship, and every joyful moment the two of you will share for the rest of your lives.
5. You're not ready to get married.
Marriage is very, very hard. It truly is. And being married at our age? That's not just hard. It's crazy.
I've come to accept that no one will ever really be "ready" to get married. No matter how much you know or think you know about each other, no matter how much you pray about it, no matter how much counseling you go through, how many Dr. James Dobson books you read...you're not ready to get married. We've gone through some tough stuff, things that we never saw coming, but we did it together.
And that unpreparedness, that crazy scary uncertainty that rests solely on the trust you have in one another? THAT is what is so incredibly beautiful about marriage. THAT is what is so incredibly beautiful about love.
From the moment we tied the knot until today, 364 days later, Molly and I have been consistent. We're just two kids who don't know much other than that we love the heck out of each other.
See what I mean? It's crazy, absolutely crazy. But I don't regret it for a second.
