First of all, my hubby is the kindest.
I’m so blessed to have found him.
He has such a sweet heart and is so sensitive.
Reminded me of my dad.
Does he criticize me more than my dad?
But what can we do.
We’ve been living together for 6 years and raising a kid together for 3.5, so yeah we gonna get on each other’s nerves.
Anyway, the month before my dad suddenly died when I was 21, I had broken up with my college boyfriend of 1.5 years.
He was also the nurturing type.
So in 1 foul swoop there went the nurturing men in my life.
I thought it was G-d’s way of telling me I didn’t deserve those type of men anymore. And I would never find them again as partners.
G-d proved me wrong about 8 years later when I met kind, sensitive and psychologically-inclined Isaac.
Oh, and stable!
He wasn’t the first nice guy I had dated seriously after my dad passed (A.D. After Dad, lol, but really not a joke, cuz my dad’s passing turned my life upside down and gave me a whole new perspective on life). But he was the first nice guy who was stable.
So I was like, maybe I do deserve to be nurtured and unconditionally loved after all!
I was in such shock I couldn’t even publicize my engagement or wedding until a year later. My mentality was still stuck in the narrative of Gila get’s taken advantage of by Assholes.
Now I want to go back in time.
Get into your travel machine folks.
Like seriously, if you feel comfortable doing so, sit on your bum, bend your knees and hug your legs into your chest.
Now close your eyes.
Take a deep breath.
Open your eyes.
You’re with me on the school bus in 6th grade. The sweetest and kindest boy I ever crushed on (let’s call him Pat) gets onto the bus. I had been lying down for the past 30 minutes since my stop was so much earlier and I’m tired! He gets on, approaches my bus seat, and I get up and move to the window seat to make space for him.
He sits next to me for the remainder of the bus ride.
I feel butterflies the entire time.
This was the same guy I had told my friend I wanted to marry. That I dreamed of being in our home together. That I pictured myself in the kitchen. I was just standing there. Not cooking. But it was a calm and grounded, peaceful energy in that kitchen.
So yeah, it wasn’t always assholes and narcissistic fucktards.
The point is, along with my lifelong ability to want to please others, my dream of chemistry and passion, and how much I loved racing another middle school crush of mine up the stairs and the more racy energy I had with him—there is a part of me that yearns for the sensitive and kind soul.
Did y’all ever experience this dichotomy?