The very first time I met Michael was at a friend’s wedding. He walked up to me and said hi, and we seemed to hit it off instantly. But I did not let him get too close because I had commitment phobia, the kind that always made me run for the door when things threatened to get serious. So even though he tried to breach my walls, I held back, and we became friends.
It wasn’t that the men that came around me were not good enough; I simply balked at the idea of spending the rest my life tied to one person. The thought scared me.
At first, my friends would always tease me mercilessly and snort whenever I ran away from yet another supposed “good” guy. But eventually, they became concerned.
They told me that when I found the one, I would know in an instant and then I had to quit running. And deep down, I waited for that feeling to come. That unique feeling that would indicate my final bus-stop at love.
I was in no hurry though, because I remembered the words my father drummed into me when he talked to me about being careful about the choice of my life partner. In his words, a mistake made here could cripple me for life.
Then came Michael, bursting fiercely out of the friend zone I had made him president over. He made me see him for who he was, and I was hooked.
He was a Christian who feared God (and this was important to me) and had all the qualities I was attracted to. We could play like kids for hours and be emotionally naked in a way that our vulnerabilities made us stronger.
He was the kind of guy I knew my family would accept, and so I wanted it to last. I truly felt he was the one, so why did I feel choked up sometimes? I got pissed off and decided to refuse to let my commitment phobia control me. I knew there were certain things I could not compromise on, and tough questions I needed to answer before my heart would feel convinced he was the one.
Was it stressful? I read an online magazine that said that a relationship should not feel like a chore. Michael and I certainly had our differences. There were times we made each other so mad that we both felt like selling each other to the highest bidder. But more often than that, we laughed so hard that our insides hurt, times when I still couldn’t control my bursts of joy.
Regardless of whatever it was, we still came to a compromise and climbed new heights of understanding because we genuinely wanted the best for each other. We realized that more room had to be made for laughter because we hated the distance that each quarrel brought.
Would there be regrets? This question felt like a hard pill to swallow as it forced me to dig deep.
I knew beyond a doubt that I would have regrets if I didn’t fight for us. Michael’s presence in my life made it more beautiful and added value. Previous relationships I had been in were with takers who were not interested in contributing to my growth.
More importantly, I had to be sure that the relationship brought out the best in me physically, emotionally, spiritually, and in other ramifications.
After evaluating all these, I decided to stay and fight the urge, the fear that tried to rein its ugly head in because Michael made it easier when life threw obstacles my way. And well, because there are no in-betweens in commitment. I either stayed, or I did not.
I’m glad I stayed.
Phew!! So, here I am. I prayed for God’s will and followed my heart. After three beautiful years of marriage, today is our son’s dedication, and all I can do is thank God for bringing such an amazing man my way.
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Love,
Diane
