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I Am Your Husband

I’ve been reading an awesome book called, “Calling in the One.”

There are a number of exercises that they ask you to do. One is very, very interesting to me.

You have to write a letter to yourself as your lover/future husband/soulmate, etc.

You write the things you want that person to say to you and about you. Then, you actually read it.

So I’ma put my business in the street and write my letter right here, on the blog.

To my dearest one,

I know you’ve been waiting for me. You’ve been through a lot. You’ve been hurt, you’ve been disappointed.

It’s taken me so long to find you, because I knew you always existed and because I knew how smart, and beautiful and driven, kind and caring you would be, I also knew I had a lot of work to do before I could even enter your life.

I had to get ready. Woman, you don’t play. You intimidate the weak brothas and if I stepped to you wrong, I’d go running with my tail between my legs. You will crush my soul with the heel of your pumps.

So I’ve been preparing. I’ve been praying. I’ve been working out. I actually just got a promotion at a job I really enjoy.  I’ve been getting my finances in order because you love eating out, you love the theater, but more than that, you really love stability. So I want to give you all of those things and your annual vacation, and if you were short and had a car repair emergency, it’s nothing for me to help you out.

I love to hear you laugh, so I get my Kevin Hart on to hear that cackle. Sometimes you snort and I think it’s cute, especially when you’ve noticed I noticed.

I love to sit with you on the couch and massage your scalp, while you tell me about your day.

I calm you down when you get upset. You actually sneak off to your car at lunch to call me, and I answer. I’m busy too, but even if it’s for three minutes, I make time for you then remind you I have to get back to work to maintain our beautiful life together.

By no means am I perfect. Sometimes I don’t make sense, or sometimes I need attention too, or time to think or hang out with my friends, but I make sure that you know you are the priority in my life.

We pray together. Not just over our meals, but when we are worried, or even just to give God thanks, we take some time out.

I love my family and I’m supportive of them, I’m there for my friends.

You are my best friend.

We can be very focused, serious people, but we get so silly together. It’s one of the things I love most about you.

I love pleasing you in all ways, especially in the bedroom. You a freak girl. Love that, but you’re so classy too.

You are beautiful without your glasses, but you’re darn cute when you wear them.

I love your hair no matter how you wear it. I love how it smells and how soft it is.

You have the most awesome butt. Really, I tried to put a shot glass on it once and you caught me. Then you actually balanced it on there. See, this is why we get along.

But don’t get it twisted. You can be crazy. I mean all passive aggressive, non-confrontational, moody. You over think things and second guess, but I can deal with it.

You don’t scare me.

You give me the gift of learning how to listen and how to be patient.

I can’t read your mind, baby, but I know how to read your mood. I like to think, I’m pretty good at it.

You know how to act at any function at any place. You can hang out at the rib joint on MLK, and you can rub elbows with politicians. I love your writing.

I don’t love when you write about me in your blog…

I hate when you correct my spelling in texts. It’s a text, woman! You know I know how to spell. I was rushing. Emails, correct me. I don’t want to look ignorant.

I appreciate all of your gifts.

I understand your family. And the situation with your mom, it’s really ok. I love you more for being so strong.

You teach me everyday how to be a better man. And besides being with you, a better man is all I ever want to be.

Watching you grow as a woman, as an artist, as a mother, as my life partner. It gives me joy.

I’m proud of you.

I just look at you sometimes in awe. I feel lucky and blessed to be responsible for your heart.

I take it seriously.

I’m excited to wake up everyday next to you (and that dragon in your mouth–sorry babe–it’s true :)), because it means I’ve got another chance to love you even more.

Love, your man.

Breakthrough: I’m Relieved I’m Not Married Right Now

Ok, so this is huge.

Because if things had gone to plan, I would be living in Chicago right now and um, married. Not sure how happy I would be, but I would have certainly been married and living even further away from my family and friends.

I had a moment the other night.

I was sitting on my couch, eating a yummy meal I cooked.

Save for the television blathering on in the background, it was quiet. I was wearing old sweats sitting on my couch.

I had what psychiatric professionals would call a “breakthrough”.

Without any provocation, this thought just entered my head: “I’m happy I don’t have to take care of a man, protect him, stroke his ego and turn over and give him sex when I don’t feel like it.”

After I said it, it hit me like a ton of bricks that healing has been taking place. It felt good. I had to smile.Then I broke out in laughter.

I lost who I thought was the love of my life (maybe he is), but I gained a few things between the tears and private nervous breakdowns.

I was listening to God more.

I was more creative than I had been in years. I started this blog and I’m attempting to start a business that makes me feel so good. I’ve been taking classes and plan to take more. I’ve taken more action in my professional life.

I began to be more interested in me and what I wanted and what was important to me and what made me happy. I won’t lie. I got wrapped up and I immersed myself in the preparation for being a top-notch wife. Being a wife and moving was a cop out for something else that was changing my personality and increasing my stress, probably making me seem like a completely different woman who in the beginning of the relationship was very vibrant, engaged and satisfied professionally.

I was changing. Because I was so active in my relationship, I put other things on hold for “once I got settled in Chicago.”

It’s a year later, but I can thank God now for what I went through. I can be thankful for the quiet moments in my own home, where I do what I want when I want.

It’s not to say I don’t want a great man to share my life with down the line, but I want him to fit in seamlessly. I don’t want to have to force him in with a hammer, or drastically change my life to fit into his.

I want my future husband to find me eventually, but I want him to find me happy, healthy, at my best and at a stage of my life where there is growth and abundance and all he has to do is jump in and add to it. I don’t want to offend my future husband by saying this, but I want him to know he is highly valued in my life, but not my life completely.

In church Sunday, the pastor talked about trusting God. He also said we need to stop asking God for the details about how He’s going to do what you want Him to do. Reason being, if we knew all the hardships we will have to endure to get there, we’d just change our minds and say forget it.

I haven’t been this hopeful in a long time.

It feels miraculous. It feels Golden.

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