Surprisingly (or not), I still get questions, comments, and emails about this relationship post I wrote two and a half years ago. Readers ask how I ultimately made my decision to marry Mr. Wonderful (which happens to be 10 years ago today) and how we make it work.

When Mr. Wonderful and I first got married, I actually used to be jealous of other couples. Those that unflinchingly cuddled in public and would sneak kisses in front of friends. The husbands who waxed poetic about their wives on Facebook. The wives who talked about how their thoughtful husbands planned a surprise getaway for the weekend, just because. We were never them, Mr. Wonderful was never that, and part of me used to wonder if something was wrong with us, or me. Was it because I married a friend versus a lover? Was there something amiss in my love? In his? Did I (we) make a mistake?

A few years into our marriage, we hit a lull. It seemed like night after night, we had nothing to say to each other. And then we would watch a TV show or Mr. Wonderful would spend the rest of the night playing a computer game. Eventually there came times when I would go out with friends almost every night, just to see if he even cared or noticed (and he didn’t on both accounts). I didn’t expect marriage to be an ongoing adventure, but I also didn’t expect or want it to become a roommate agreement. We went to therapy and that helped, but then we’d stop and our progress would too.

I say this not as a representation of all marriages, but this was ours. At least, for awhile. I have met people who have described an amazing chemistry they experience with their spouses, so perhaps that kind of long-term relationship is possible. Ours was not that.

We eventually found common ground, in the form of our marriage crisis. When you reach a point in your marriage that forces you to ask, “So are we in, or are we out,” you pause everything else in life to find the answer to that desperate, ultimate question. You may seek the services of a spousal support lawyer in Schaumburg if you decide to file for divorce.

As we searched for how we would individually respond, our vows took on a new depth. So this is what “for worse” means. Oh. If only we had known.

Ultimately, I made the decision to stay. Despite his (and my) flaws and sins, I realized what I did have in our marriage was the unwavering support of my husband. Whether it was through depression, through job changes, or simply following a life calling, he stuck by me even when it affected him, too. I can’t imagine anyone else who would have been a better helper through my chronic foot pain this past year, whose steadfast loyalty has gotten me through some of the toughest of times. And though his love doesn’t involve smothering me with kisses in front of friends, it does involve working late hours so I can be free to have a job of my choice. He doesn’t write love letters, but he currently does nearly all of the chores and puts our daughter to bed.

Looking back at my 20-something self, I would tell her that despite all that would lay ahead in marriage, she should stay. Keep trying, as long as your partner is willing to do the same. She’ll be glad she stuck it out. Because so far, I know I’m glad I did.

What’s the best marriage or relationship advice anyone has ever given you?

Dear Husband,

It’s your first Father’s Day, and I’ve been feeling the pressure to write something especially heartwarming.  Perhaps some words about love, followed by sweet musings of parenthood, then signed with an XOXO.

And yet as I sit here, wondering what to say, I find myself missing us. I miss the closeness I used to feel, when there was freedom to focus on just you, and how your day went, to hear the latest funny story without being half distracted by whether or not our daughter needs another bottle.

There’s no denying our lives have changed these last few months and become unpredictable. We’ve had to learn and relearn the lesson of giving up control. My own body and hormones have often times betrayed me and shown you the very worst of your wife, which you unfortunately have had to see and take.

I know you feel and understand love through affection, and yet after holding and caring for a baby all day, sometimes the last thing I want to do is touch you, too. I force myself to hug you anyway, but we both know it’s awkward and different. When did holding hands start to get weird?

Everyone says marriage becomes different after a baby, but I’m scared (terrified!) that it will be for the worse. I don’t want to find ourselves twenty years from now, knowing everything about our daughter and little about each other.

There are days when you whisper “I love you” as I drift off to sleep, and I have nightmares about what that means now and whether I said it back. I had thought birthing a baby meant birthing extra love, but instead I find myself taking what was yours and giving it to her instead. I know you understand, but can this be sustained? Will extra replenishment ever come? What if it never does?

When Little V grows up, I want to make sure she knows how lucky she is to have you. Not because you clothe her, feed her, and put a nice roof over our heads (though you do that very well). It’s how you light up when she coos, tell her you love her after she throws up on your favorite jeans, and sing “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star” for the twentieth time just to make her smile and laugh again.

And I know I’m lucky, too. Lucky to have someone who is committed to my ever-changing moods, who picks up extra slack for the sake of my physical and mental well-being, and most importantly continues to challenge me to be a better and kinder person even when I don’t want to (especially when I don’t want to).

Life isn’t going to get any easier from here on out, but I’m glad you’re with me on this ride. I need you, you know?

Happy Father’s Day, Mr. Wonderful.

I was never one of those girls who planned on getting married or dreamed of her wedding day. But then I met Mr. Wonderful, and spending the rest of my life with him just made sense. I warned him, though, that I didn’t care about a house and I wasn’t sure I wanted kids. Ever.

Now I’m in my 30s, and the pressure of being a happily married woman with no kids always raises a lot of questions (and eyebrows). We’re now attending more baby showers than weddings, and conversations with married friends revolve around pregnancies and IVF procedures and the best way to put your kid to sleep. There just doesn’t seem to be a lot of married couples that don’t have (or at least aren’t trying to have) children.

“Have kids when you’re ready,” people say. “You’ll know.” But what if you’re never ready? What if you just never know? I “knew” Mr. Wonderful was “the one” when I realized at some point I didn’t want to live my life without him. But how do you know you want to spend the rest of your life raising a human being that doesn’t even yet exist? Will I start bonding with it once I push it out of my bloody womb? Or when it screams helplessly in the middle of the night?

“No matter what, don’t give into pressure.” Except that as women, our body is a ticking clock. Time does run out. At some point you have to make a decision or Mother Nature will make it for you. Or you can freeze ten eggs at the sum of $15,000 (yes, I looked it up).

I once told a friend that I loved the idea of being a grandparent. “Well how are you going to get there without having your own kids first?” she laughed. Good question.

So while I’m still dubious about my mothering abilities, Mr. Wonderful and I have decided that trying to have kids would be the path of least regret. Or maybe subconsciously, we have given into societal pressure.

Are you married but don’t have kids? How did you arrive at your decision?

“You can’t be serious,” I said, dangling the white strip in his face.

“You never know when you might need it,” he insisted. I rolled my eyes. Heaving a sigh, he tossed it in the garbage.

Next, I eyed a dusty box of mints. “We’ve been dating for over two years and I’ve never seen you eat these.”

On cue, Mr. Wonderful took out a mint and popped it into his mouth.

“Still good.”

So you can imagine how much junk has accumulated after eight years of living together in the same place.

With our recent decision to move from the suburb to the city of San Francisco (where the average rent is now more expensive than New York City!), we also faced a loss of over 400sq ft worth of space. Having lived out of a suitcase for seven months, we figured it would be easy to throw out a bunch of things. And whatever didn’t fit into our new apartment, we would stuff into an external storage unit at $90/month. It seemed like a small price to pay to hold onto our childhood memories and sporting goods. Two carloads to Goodwill later, we congratulated ourselves.

Then Mr. Wonderful read this blog. Somehow he became convinced that we could actually get rid of almost everything in our storage unit, too.

I laughed. “What, you’re going to get rid of your golf clubs?”

“Yeah.”

I stopped laughing. My pack rat husband was serious. The table was turned, and I tried to convince him that getting rid of 20 boxes was not going to be easy. But then this question haunted us – was anything in our storage unit really worth $1000+ a year to keep? What was the point of having 50 DVDs if all we ever watch is Netflix? What was the point of keeping an art easel if I haven’t painted in over 5 years? What was the point of keeping greetings cards from people whom I haven’t talked to in nearly two decades?

None. I wouldn’t bother saving any of it if our storage unit caught on fire. In fact, I would probably feel somewhat relieved.

So…we did it. I still can’t believe it, actually. We did manage to fit a few more boxes at our new place, and I didn’t quite throw out all my greeting cards (things that make you smile are still worth keeping) but Mr. Wonderful did indeed get rid of his golf clubs. I’m so proud of him. I’m so proud of us.

“Hey, I haven’t had these in awhile,” Mr. Wonderful said, pulling out the same tin of mints I almost threw out a decade ago. He popped one in his mouth.

“Still good.”

What are you holding onto that you should probably donate or throw away?

The weeks leading up to our engagement, my mother gave me an ultimatum to choose between Mr. Wonderful or herself. And while I had spent most of my life trying to be “a good girl” in order to earn her love, I didn’t want to give up the man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. I didn’t love her less. I just chose to stand up to her, for the first time in my life.

After that, my mother simply stopped speaking to me. I tried to reach out to her, but every time I did, it seemed to cause more damage than good. Friends prayed for us in earnest. People assured me there was no way a mother would miss her daughter’s wedding. I wanted to believe in a miracle.

I remember when my dad arrived to the ceremony, alone. I wasn’t completely surprised at my mother’s choice, but my heart sank, anyway. And while I have no regrets, I haven’t been able to make it through the Hallmark aisle around Mother’s Day without my stomach tied in knots. Mr. Wonderful and I never have fights about whose house to go to for Thanksgiving and Christmas, because my mother has made it clear that we’re not invited.

It took years of therapy (and a lot from the bank account) before I was able to deal with all the emotions and heal. I got to the point where I felt emotionally healthy again. I could talk about my family without falling apart in tears. I stopped having nightmares. I still wanted to reconnect with my mother, but I recognized that a relationship takes two people willing to make it work.

When my sister announced her engagement, I was excited that she had found someone who truly loves and cherishes her. But I also knew my mother would likely be at the wedding (she and my sister have a healthier relationship). Suddenly, the old fears that I hadn’t felt in years came flooding back. It had been so long since my mother and I had even looked at each other in the face – anything could happen. And as much as I want to honor and support my only sibling, I’m also dreading the ceremonial procession as her matron of honor. Will my mother even acknowledge me as I walk by her chair?

Eight years later I still question if I should have tried harder. When is it time to let go? As I witness new cycles of life and see my friends gaze adoringly into their infant’s eyes, I can’t help but wonder, What was wrong with me?

Have any of you been through a similar situation?

It wasn’t love at first sight.

Or the second. Or the third.

After maybe the twentieth time we hung out together (and 3.5 years later), Mr. Wonderful took an interest in me because I pretended to smoke a french fry at a group dinner with mutual friends (classy, I know).

By the time we went on our first “date,” I still wasn’t interested in him. To be fair, I thought we were going on a date as “friends.” If I had known better I would have declined altogether instead of leading the poor guy on.

But he persisted. And even though I was not attracted to him, I eventually decided to give the potential relationship a try. I let my brain win over my hormones. He was a good guy. My last boyfriend treated me badly. Why not?

This is where most people whom I have told this story to get confused. You mean you dated and then eventually married someone you didn’t feel any initial chemistry with? How does that work?

It works because I felt comfortable with him.

For some people, feeling comfortable means boring. They want sparks, they want fireworks. They expect butterflies in their stomach as they look deeply into the other person’s eyes. One friend told me how she had met this guy, and was sure he was “the one,” because she literally felt electricity when they first held hands.

They broke up a few months later.

While chemistry and initial sparks can be exciting, a lasting relationship often thrives on the foundation of trust, respect, and compatibility. It’s not about seeking a sugar daddy or relying on superficial attractions. If you’re looking for genuine, long-lasting love, it’s worth considering what truly matters in a relationship. For those interested in financial arrangements, look at this website, it might provide more insights into that aspect of dating.

When seeking a partner, it’s worthwhile to look beyond material possessions or superficial attractions and focus on finding someone with whom you can build a life based on shared values, trust, and mutual respect. These enduring qualities are the foundation of a fulfilling and lasting love that enriches both partners’ lives.

In my teens and early 20s, I looked for those things too. I only dated men that I thought were attractive, or at least ones that other women thought were attractive. I compromised myself in ways I now wish I hadn’t. The worldly motto is to live a life without regrets, but I do have a few. I made mistakes, because too often I chose a book by its cover.

With Mr. Wonderful, I found someone with whom I could be myself. I never had to worry about putting on makeup, because even though he complimented me when I did, he also liked it when I didn’t and told me so. He was the first man in my life who thought my artistic endeavors were admirable and not a waste of time. I never had to pretend to be someone I wasn’t, or hide parts of my life that I was embarrassed about. I was encouraged to speak my mind, and to stand up for my opinions even if I was the only one who held that opinion.

With him, I was free to just be me.

The attraction did come later. Some days I get heart flutters when I find him smiling at me (like now). And some days we just watch Netflix at home on a Friday night. There are even days we don’t have much to talk about, and that’s ok. Because to have someone who loves me as wholly me is a precious gift, and I would be an idiot to throw that away.

When Mr. Wonderful proposed, I knew I was given the choice to continue searching for my idealistic dream man, or to marry my best friend.

I chose the latter.

Two years after my battle with depression, my spouse and I faced a marriage crisis. I don’t know that any marriage is immune from having one. I do have friends who seem like they never fight, and agree with each other on just about everything. Perhaps they’re just really low-maintenance. Perhaps they’re hiding from the truth. In our case, we were living in denial. We had been brushing things away, thinking they were no big deal, when in fact we were sweeping it all into an enormous pile that became the elephant in the room. Seeking couples therapy Sacramento became our lifeline, helping us navigate through the challenges and rebuild our relationship on a stronger foundation. Those who are undergoing divorce may consider consulting a Gaithersburg divorce lawyer. In many legal cases, polygraph tests are employed to discern the truth. These are often conducted when a partner in a relationship suspects infidelity. While controversial and not foolproof, these tests can sometimes provide clarity in complex emotional situations. Contact lie detector manchester for professional services.

There is a type of grief that comes when you realize the solid foundation you thought you had is really comprised of delicate particles. When the person you had faithfully given your life to, in all its intimate moments, becomes someone you loathe and fear. Suddenly you question your own judgment, your own self-worth. How could I have been so stupid? How did I not know this before? How could I have not seen this coming?

I asked these questions as I violently ripped up an entire roll of toilet paper, sobbing hysterically. The mountain of tissue filled the air as I flung the pieces at my husband. Couples who have accepted that their marriage has to end will usually decide to file for divorce. If you have kids, you may need to search “fathers rights lawyer near me” online.

But here is the true miracle. That we went from being separated to being together. That I went from questioning my marriage to knowing I had married the right guy, after all.

We know it’s not happily ever after from here. There will inevitably be more “rock bottoms.” But now that we actually have an idea of what for worse, and in sickness, really means, we embrace life in the moments that are for better, and in health. Because when the good times do come, they are not to be taken lightly. They should be cherished…and celebrated. Couples who are going through a rough patch should consider an intensive couples therapy to help strengthen their relationship. If you and your partner have decided to end the marriage, you may need seek legal services from sites like https://www.divorcelawyerschicago.org/.

Nha Khanh dress, Bloomingdale’s cashmere shrug (similar, steal)

Whether you are married or not…what does “for better or for worse” mean to you?

Mr. Wonderful and I had no idea what “for better or for worse” really meant when we said our wedding vows. As friends, we saw each other in all our annoying and moody ways. As a dating couple, we gave each other chicken soup when one of us caught the cold, and went through career changes and family drama together. When I was bedridden from a nasty car accident, he brought a bouquet of tulips from Chicago. As we recited our lines to each other at the altar, we naively thought we understood what marriage was all about.

A year after we got married, I had clinical depression. It wasn’t the first time I suffered from depression, but this time it was more severe and longer than it had ever been before. It’s not a condition understood by very many people unless they’ve gone through it themselves, and Mr. Wonderful saw me turn from a person who wanted to have dinner parties every week to not wanting to do anything but sleep and cry. I became paranoid, anxious and overly sensitive. I hated myself. When I heard someone was dying, I told God I would be happy to trade places. I know it sounds terrible to not want the gift of life, but I didn’t want mine.

Mr. Wonderful faithfully went to counseling with me, even though the sessions had little to do with him. He didn’t know what else to do. The therapist told him there was nothing he could do. It was my “problem,” and I had to get through it somehow.

I can’t imagine what that period was like for my husband. He would suggest having friends over. I would say no. On the rare occasions I agreed, I would sit listlessly at the dinner table, staring blankly at the wall behind our friends’ faces, completely void of conversation. I dreaded family events, always trying to muster up the best face possible, only to be totally exhausted afterwards.

Mr. Wonderful is not a saint, but never once did he blame me or my depression for our shell of a marriage. He would tell me that he still loved me, and would choose what was left of myself over not being married to me at all.

After three years, the cloud gradually lifted. Perhaps it was therapy. Perhaps it was a miracle. Perhaps it was because I eventually decided to make a plan to change my life. When you feel you’ve hit rock bottom, suddenly taking risks doesn’t seem so scary…

…continued here

Linking to More Pieces of Me and On the Daily Express

As many of you know, my Life Unrefined blog disappeared this past June. And while I grieved over the loss of two years of work, I also seized the opportunity to take a rest and rethink the purpose of my blog. I originally started a fashion blog because I wanted to encourage other women to embrace themselves and their natural beauty. Not in the overly simplistic, “You’re fine, just love yourself!” sense, but because I battled with body image and self-esteem for most of my life. It’s still a struggle to not feel intimidated in a room full of women who seem so confident and self-assured.

Yet while I loved writing for my blog and meeting other fashion/beauty bloggers, something began to nag me. You see, I enjoy shopping and talking about style, but I realized I wanted to talk about other things, too. Who I am is so much more than just what I wear. I wanted to talk about the beauty and struggles of marriage, my love of traveling, and the journey in my Christian faith. I know that not everyone will want to read about all of those things, but ultimately I have decided that the blog needs to be a true reflection of myself.

So I hope you will stay around as I begin again. I value the friendships I have made through this blog, both in life and online, and look forward to continuing that with you!

Very best,

Jen