My husband is my best friend
Updated: Dec 6, 2020
My husband is my best friend. Yup, you read that right. You know if you’re out, you have one person you gravitate toward? That one person, that in a group of people, makes you feel much more comfortable with yourself? From the moment we started dating, he was that person for me. I kind of hate being places without him. He puts me at ease and helps me feel more like myself. He is my security blanket.
It took me a while to find him. I was that girl in high school and most of college that dated but never reeeally dated. You know the type? Well, hi, it’s me!
I had crushes and people that I was interested in, but somehow it never worked out. The timing was always wrong, we ended up mutually moving along or never getting to the serious aspect of a relationship.
Prior to meeting Michael, I was convinced I was destined to be alone. And I was actually okay with that. I’ve always been very comfortable in my own skin and never felt like I needed someone else to complete me. Sure, I craved the companionship, like a lot of people do. But I never felt like I needed to settle or date someone just for the sake of dating someone due to wanting that companionship. I wanted companionship that was going to be worth my time. Until I met Michael, I hadn’t quite found that.
I joked around with my mom all the time about the fact that I was going to end up marrying the first guy I seriously dated. Well, 7 years and one baby later look what I did! Married the dang guy.
Most guys deemed me “intimidating” because of my confidence. I am always unapologetically myself. I am a big ol’ weirdo and I don’t care who knows it. What you see is, quite literally, what you get. I won’t say I’m a “whole lot of lady” because I think that’s a bullshit thing to say, but I do know exactly who I am, what I want and I’m not afraid to ask for it or wait for it if I need to. And I suppose that is intimidating to some. But not to Michael.
And thank god because I sure love the little life we’ve built together.
When the two of us met, we weren’t really interested in each other romantically. He was coming off of a relationship, I was coming off of a non-relationship that fizzled, and we just weren’t ready for each other. Fast forward a couple of months and then all of a sudden, we were both in a good spot, and felt like there might be something between us that was worth exploring. So, we explored, and the rest is history.
From the very beginning of our relationship, we were both so absolutely ourselves. We felt comfortable with each other. You know how some people say that they’ve felt like they’ve known someone for longer than they actually have because of the ease/closeness/comfortableness in the relationship? Well, that is exactly how I felt with Michael; I felt like I had known him my whole life. He was, and still is, somebody that I can be ridiculous and goofy, but also serious with. I can share my greatest triumphs, my darkest fears, and my biggest insecurities and know that I will be supported with each of them.
I mean hell guys; I am really just embarrassingly myself with him. Need examples?
The other day, I showed him my neck hair. Sounds weird, right? But in elementary school, I got picked on by a kid (I still remember his name, the little jerk) for having long neck hair. 10-year-old me started trimming my neck hair on a regular basis right then and there, and I haven’t stopped. Funny how some things stick with us. Well, since we are all in quarantine, I haven’t been paying as much attention to myself. (I think it took me over three weeks to finally shave the forest that were my legs, oops.) And because I have continued to push myself to the backseat lately, my neck hair had gotten a little unruly. I called him into the bathroom and showed him. And he laughed. He told me it was probably long BECAUSE I keep trimming it and then watched me get the scissors out to go ahead and take care of business.
Another one? When I got pregnant with Addison, one of the weird pregnancy “side effects” I had was the hair on my nipples turning black. I was convinced I was having a boy because of it. I obviously showed him. Well, here we are over a year of not being pregnant, and…. Those stupid black hairs will still occasionally pop up and so I tweeze those suckers right out. And sometimes, Michael will walk in on me doing it. And I don’t stop. I don’t try to hide it. I’m just like, yup, this is what you signed up for. And he goes about his business like it’s just a typical Tuesday night.
I love our closeness. I love that I have someone I can be myself with and not have to worry that they might judge me or think less of me. I love that I can be unapologetically me and he can be unapologetically him. It feels safe. And it feels real.
He is not my other half. I have never needed someone else to make me feel whole. But he is my best friend. He is supportive. He is goofy, but also ridiculous. He challenges me. He drives me to be a better person, wife and mother. He is my perfect match. And maybe it’s because he is an essential employee and so we are not home together 24/7 right now (thank god), but I am so incredibly grateful for him, his shoulders that I lean on heavily and the fact that in a room full of people, he’s still the one I seek comfort from.
My husband is my best friend, and I feel so lucky that I get to say that.