Dear diary...I met a boy
One of the readers of this blog recently commented that reading my blog was like reading a best friend’s diary. It’s true, I probably take the phrase, “Know Your Farmer” to a whole new level. But, if there’s one thing I know about myself it’s this: I am who I am and what I am is an over the top, sometimes extraordinary, sometimes ridiculous, not afraid to fail, always honest human being who has no social boundaries when talking about money or love. And so, it is with total comfort that I share with you:
I am in love.
I honestly didn’t think it would happen for me again and, in the throes of saying goodbye to my first marriage I really thought there was no way I could duplicate the level of companionship that I had before.
Boy was I wrong.
When you fall in love as an 18 year old you are naïve and, quite honestly, stupid. Your values aren’t set yet, you’re not quite sure who you are, or even who you’re going to be. Your knowledge of relationships is shallow and fed by failed high school romances and movie culture. I am now grossly aware, as an 18 year old I prioritized really insignificant things in my mate.
Some couples (I’m thinking of my parents who are high school sweethearts going on 41 years of marriage) grow together and flourish. I think we’ve established, I’m not part of one of those couples anymore.
And for that I am so thankful.
Because although my marriage gave me the most amazing, delightful, would.give.my.life.for.hers child it had stopped giving me a partner, lover, companion and friend.
When someone who has promised to love you until death do you part decides that death is actually too long to be with you it's a sucker punch to the gut. I cried for 6 months straight. But then I picked myself back up and got strong and healthy again. For my daughter and for me.
Almost overnight, as if the universe knew I was capable of love again, he came into my life.
Falling in love when you are 32 is, for lack of a better word, pure bliss. You know who you are, you know what you want, and you aren’t afraid to get it for yourself. You’ve been hurt, in many cases so deeply that you’ve tested the strength of the human spirit, and you’ve survived.
I have been married before. I have deployed to a war zone. I have carried a child in my body. I have seen death and birth. I have been beat up, broke down and trompled. I am time worn and weathered. But what I lack in freshness and innocence I make up for in passion and conviction.
Falling in love when you are 32 is raw and spiritual. It's cathartic and pure. Falling in love as an adult is like coming home to a home you didn't even know you were missing.
And so, for those of you who have been following the journey of The Farmstead for awhile, or even if you just started, it’s important you know.
Giz and I are not doing this on our own anymore.
There is a beautiful kind man who we don't "need" to help us but who we "want" to help us.
This man who brings so much peace, compassion and balance to the farm I often have to pinch myself to see if I’m still living in the tornado that used to be my life.
Of course all the boxes are checked. Values aligned? Check. Goals aligned? Check. Dreams aligned? Check. Super smoking hot? DOUBLE CHECK.
And then the boxes you didn't realize you wanted checked because you didn't realize they existed until you met him...those boxes are all checked too.
But most important.
Gizmo adores him. Which, if you have met my child, you can vouch for this, she doesn’t fall in love easily.
But she did.
And that’s when I knew.
This man is family.