Today I’m sharing a little bit about how I knew my then boyfriend would become my now husband. Everyone’s ‘how you knew’ story is different, but it’s fun and often helpful to hear what others went through when navigating the tricky world of dating. Here’s hoping this helps you!
A hike with destiny
“Sorry, but I’ve got to take my little siblings to play practice. I’ll have to bail.”
I groaned.
One more friend who wouldn’t be able to come to the hike I had organised for that morning. I had invited eight friends on the hike. Eight friends and one cute guy. Now, everyone had cancelled. Except the cute guy.
This was going to be so awkward. Without the smoke screen of friends, it would be clear that I was interested in this man I barely knew. What if we didn’t hit it off and had to spend hours climbing a mountain with nothing to say? I decided it was too late to cancel.
When he hopped into my car, his easy greeting halted my rising blush in its tracks. As we drove, conversation began to flow freely. As I slithered and puffed my way up the muddy mountain, we talked as much as my lack of breath would allow. For the first time in my life, I was spending time with a man I was interested in, and I didn’t feel myself blushing with nervousness.
At the top of the mountain, we stopped to take in the view.
“Would you two like a photo together?” a stranger asked.
“Um, sure,” I said, with a side glance at Al. I didn’t want to be rude by refusing.
The stranger took a photo and handed me back my phone. I saw myself, red sweaty and muddy, with my arm awkwardly over Al’s shoulder. There was a little sliver of sunlight between us, the only hint that we weren’t actually a couple.
Despite this less than flattering picture, the snarky voice of my perfectionism was surprisingly silent. As we continued to chat on the way down, there was no second-guessing my every word, or his.
Perfectionism almost made me miss out on a great relationship
I struggle against perfectionism’s nasty commentary on a daily basis. This was my first year living out of home, and I was losing most of my battles. I had started my first full-time job, had housemates I didn’t click with, and was lonely in a new city. There was plenty for perfectionism to pick at.
That hike with Al was the first time I hadn’t felt self-conscious in a long time. I felt comfortable with him, as if I had nothing to prove. Being with him felt natural, like it was supposed to be. As we began dating, his obvious admiration and enjoyment of my company showed me that I didn’t have to be perfect to win his affection. And that scared me to death.
I was so wrapped up in my perfectionism, that I began to question him. How could he like me when I had so many flaws? Something was wrong with him, if he wanted to be with a rubbish person like me. I began to focus on every real or perceived flaw in him, in an attempt to figure out why he liked the unloveable me.
He had an engineer’s love of facts and figures. He’s so awkward, people will think I couldn’t do better. He played devil’s advocate with too bland an expression, people thought he was serious. He’ll offend all my friends and I’ll end up having no one to hang out with. He came from a different family background to me and took time to settle in with my family. He’s not used to kids; how will he be a good father?
The more I listened to perfectionism, the more anxious I became. Real red flags in a relationship are important to acknowledge and address, even if that means ending the relationship. But the thing about my perfectionism is that it made red flags out of every character quirk.
I knew when he showed me love isn’t about perfection
Despite my selfish preoccupation, Al didn’t give up on me. Through every panicked phone call, every teary admission of my fears, he stood by me. He offered explanations and reassurance, accepted, and gave, apologies. He called me out on my perfectionism and he never stopped loving me.
Even in my deepest fear spiral, there was a small voice in my soul which reminded me how comfortable I felt around him when I wasn’t focusing on perfection. I remembered how he showed me true, unconditional love. I knew he was the man for me.
Dating Al made me realise I didn’t have to be perfect to be worthy of love. Neither did he. The comfort in each other’s presence, the enjoyment of our wide-ranging conversation and the sweetness of our romantic moments were more important than being perfect. Openly addressing issues with each other were a firm foundation to build a relationship on. The ever-changing yard stick of perfectionism was not.
Two years into our marriage, I still struggle with perfectionism. The difference is, I now do it with my best friend by my side. He is always ready to remind me that being perfect has nothing to do with succeeding in life or in love. And that photo of us on the mountain? It’s framed above my sewing machine, sweaty red face, cute guy, and all.
