Ugly

When I first started this blog it never occurred to me that I would write about marriage. Of course I assumed marriage was in my future, but through high school it always seemed like something far and vague that I would eventually fall into sometime around age twenty-five. Even as I began to date, and marriage began to seem more real and less distant, it didn't occur to me that I would start learning about marriage until I had begun my own. I was wrong.

In the last summer ten of my friends, acquaintances, and classmates have gotten married, become engaged, or bought engagement rings in preparation to propose. Eight separate couples have taken steps that will affect the rest of their lives. And of those eight couples, statistically speaking, four of them will be divorced within the next ten years. It's a sobering thought. Especially because these are my friends.

In the last year I've witnessed the fallout from two divorces and two affairs. It was a bitter privilege to observe other people's mistakes. Beyond the obvious tragedy of these events, I think there is a lot that can be learned. One lesson sticks out in particular, a lesson that I think could've saved these marriages, and could preserve from end the marriages of my friends: Love is not a feeling, or a spontaneous spark, or the inevitable benefit of the correct combination of personalities and circumstances. It is a choice.

Being in love and loving are two different things. "In-love" is the spark, the electricity that draws two people together. I remember when I realized I'd fallen in love with my boyfriend. It was as though I couldn't help doing everything I could to be around him. There was a chemistry that made my time with him the most pleasant part of my day. And that spark still exists today. But that spark isn't the relationship.

I didn't really know I loved him until things were bad. Very bad. I had to decide to love him. I had to decide, individually, that our relationship and the investment I made in it were important enough for me to weather through this ugly period in his life. I found ways to tolerate him, even support him, and show him affection. I continued to show that affection even when I didn't feel it in my own heart. Earlier in our relationship he had done the same, he overlooked my ugliness to show me love, and he continues to do so.

I once heard love defined as "choosing the best for the other person." Sometimes that can mean leaving--taking away the opportunity for that person to hurt you, or someone else, or alienate further those they care for. Sometimes leaving can be an act of love because it means you are no longer around to enable, hurt, or burden them. But most of the time, love means staying and accepting the humanity of the other person. Unrelenting love is hard, but it can catalyze powerful change in a person and deepen a relationship.

The Golden Rule is ultimately a law of love. We're all human, and we all have our own share of ugly. The only way we will ever find (and keep near) another soul who is willing to overlook our flaws and see the good in us day after day, is if we are willing to do the same. Not only is it necessary for the kind of intimate companionship that we all ultimately crave in our marriages, dating relationships, and friendships, but it makes us better people. It is easy to check out, to keep silent about our feelings and let resentment build, to decide that someone's mess just isn't worth the time and effort it will take to wade through it all; but we will never find a perfect individual. Your spouse, your boyfriend, your girlfriend is a flawed person who needs love. So are you. So am I.