Here I go again, wearing my troubles on my brow. Troubles and worries this furrow cannot hide—at least not from you, my love.
You know me all too well.
You know the one thing I need when I’m sad isn’t a girl’s night out, but instead, a good hard cry in your arms and for you to tell me I’m enough. Not enough because of my motherhood, my job, or my cooking, but simply because I’m enough.
You know that even though you’ve told me I’m sexy a million times in one evening, I’ll need to hear it again in a few days when I’m in my sweat pants, no makeup on, eating a tub of freezer burnt ice cream, feeling real grumpy from PMS.
You know that when I get anxious and afraid, I don’t need you to coddle me or become a codependent accomplice to my fears, but instead I need you to give me a gentle nudge back to reality.
You know me all too well.
You know how embarrassed I was about you witnessing me poop myself during labor, so you still deny that you saw it to this day.
You know that when I say, “I’m fine,” it really means “No, I’m not fine, but I’m too stubborn to say so.”
You know that me not wanting sexy time after the kids have gone to bed has nothing to do with motherhood fatigue, but rather how much I hated my body today.
You know that when you tell me to do something, I won’t do it out of pure rebellion, but if we’re honest, that’s one of the reasons you love me so much.
You know that when I get all dolled up, ready to hit the town, the more makeup I put on, the more insecure I’m feeling about myself.
You know how guilty I felt after yelling at our 8-year-old for being an 8-year-old, so you made sure you told me what an amazing mother I was for the mere fact of feeling guilty and apologizing for it.
You know that when I’m feeling off, you need to fill in the gaps in household work, so I don’t completely get overwhelmed with tasks.
You know that me dieting is never a good idea, so you tell me even more times than usual that I’m beautiful and perfect just the way I am.
You know that my laughter comes out most when it’s ignited by you—you never stop trying to be funny, just so you can hear me laugh again.
You know that when you look at me that way, it still gives me butterflies, so you make sure you do it at least once a day.
You know that loving me is a choice, but it’s never felt like a choice—more so like the reason you live.
You know that after a fight, it’s harder for me to forget than for you, so you hold me extra tight for as long as it takes to get back to us.
You know that I wished I had more friends, but hesitate to make an effort because I’m afraid of rejection.
You know me enough to know that I never want you to stop knowing me more deeply, so you keep discovering and learning more about who I am, even after 10 years together.
You know me all too well, my love.
So much so, that I can no longer hide my sorrows, my laughter, my insecurities, my flaws or failures. You’ve seen it all; you know it all. And despite it all—despite knowing everything about me, you still love me.
Thank you for loving even the darkest parts of me.
Thank you for being loyal to even the worst of me.
Thank you for being exactly who you are. I love you.