Today I found out that a couple I went to school with--you know, one of those couples that was together all through college, got married right out of college--is already divorced. It makes me sad, but I'm not surprised. Not that I looked at them specifically and thought yeah, that won't last, but I think I've outgrown a lot of my naivete about marriage as I've gotten older. I see the cracks a lot more--the ways things can go wrong, the relationships and personalities and situations that seem ripe for strife. Not that those marriages can't last--just that I think there's sometimes a tendency to ignore problems, push them under the rug, and that causes a much deeper, more serious set of issues. If I had gotten married in my early twenties, that's the kind of marriage I would have had, no matter who it was to; I was precisely the kind of person to ignore the problems, push things under the rug, convince myself everything was fine or that the status quo of not-so-good was normal.
When I was younger, I didn't put a whole lot of thought into what contributes to the longevity of a relationship simply because it was a given--of course marriage would last. You get married, you stay married. No other option. That perspective probably contributed to a lot of my dating choices--good guys, all of them--but I didn't really go beyond the surface of does he love Jesus? and is he a hard worker? to personal examination. That is, I had general standards about what I wanted in a guy, but hadn't even scratched the surface of who I was as a person and therefore had nothing individually specific. Each relational or potential relational situation was the same as the last.
When Rob and I first started dating, he asked me about my conflict style. Conflict style? I thought. It was the first of many fascinating conversations. Rob is someone who digs deep, who thinks things through. He asks thought-provoking questions and listens to the answers, then asks questions about the answers. He's guided me through thoughts and feelings so I can articulate what's actually going on in this head of mine. It's an incredible gift.
I'd come to a good sense of identity and self-actualization in the years after college, but these conversations helped me to place that sense, for the first time, in the context of a relationship with another person. Exploring our personalities and how they work together has given our relationship such vibrancy. We're aren't two people simply coexisting; we're two people in tune and aware of how the other person thinks and responds. We thrive together; we agree that we work better together than apart. And it's so much fun. There is incredible depth to our relationship, and we have a blast being together.
And conflict resolution? It's interesting...conflict usually drains me, but when we address issues, I never feel like we're fighting. It's more like we're working together to reach the best conclusion. It's oddly energizing, coming out the other side; we succeed together in finding a solution.
I feel like this post started out as one thing and turned into another, but that's okay. I started out thinking about divorce, and it made me start thinking about the confidence I have in our upcoming marriage. Confidence not that we'll never face problems, but confidence that in this time of knitting ourselves together, learning who the other person is and how we relate, we've built a vital foundation to work through anything that comes our way. Neither of us put much stock in "soul mates," but we have been faced time and time again with incredible proof that how God shaped us individually is what makes us fit so perfectly together. But beyond that confidence is the life-giving knowledge that in whatever we face, I'm marrying a man I can cling to as we pour our hearts out to God. As I think about the future, I feel only anticipation, excitement, joy, and, most of all, an overwhelming peace. This is going to be a heck of a life.
