H is for Husband
Before I got married, my whole concept of a husband was made up of all the husbands I had ever know: My dad, my sister's husband, and neighbors. These men are all good men. They work hard and provide for their families. They are mostly manual laborers, farmers or factory workers. I mean them no disrespect when I say what I'm about to say. They also are not very affectionate. Outwardly, at least. (Every once in a while, my dad would leave the cutest little note for my mom or I.) They are strong heads of their household, decision-makers and I think they need that distance to keep themselves at the top. They are obeyed, catered to (to a point). Husbands in my family eat first, get the most comfortable seat and aren't required to stay awake for small talk after dinner. And so I always thought I would grow up and marry a man, perhaps a farmer, and spend my days generally making him comfortable and content.
Is that really a relationship? It's more like a business arrangement, tending to the money-maker so that he can continue to go about his business. I don't doubt that there is love in all the marriages in my family but there's a line between doing something for someone to make them happy and doing something for them so that they won't get upset or be inconvenienced.
Our marriage is nothing like that and I owe it all the my husband. He showed me how to be affectionate and how to discuss things in order to make decisions. We are a team, we work together on each bump and curve that comes along. I don't defer to him (very often) as I thought I would when I was younger. I have my own goals and he has his, but we also have goals together. And that doesn't mean I participate by making him tea and cutting his meat. He's a great, caring, openly affectionate guy.