Reflecting Pool
Before getting together with my husband, I only had one "official" relationship - which didn't last long - and a handful of complicated friendships. I am sure at the time I worried if I would be alone forever, but in hindsight, I see the benefits of starting my first serious relationship when I was more mature.
Since I was single throughout most of high school, I had a lot of time to focus on myself and my friendships. This meant that I had a pretty good idea of who I was and what I wanted out of life. If I stumbled, I had close friends who could set me straight. Yes, I wanted to have a boyfriend, but I wasn't so desperate for a relationship that I would pretend to be someone else.
I saw plenty of cases where this was not true. In fact, one of my best friends in high school suffered through a terrible relationship. When she met her next boyfriend, she was so happy he treated her well that she spent her free time only with him. Once we graduated, my friend group never saw her again.
In other cases, I've seen girls completely lose their identities. They do whatever their boyfriends or husbands want to do; they believe everything the man believes. From an outside perspective, it is heartbreaking because it is almost like the girl has completely disappeared. My old friend is gone.
I had a stronger personality back in high school, and I was lucky that my husband accepted me as I was. In the early stages of our relationship, though, I was afraid of changing too much. When we got more serious, I was in uncharted territory. Now my decisions could affect our future together. I had to figure out when I was being stubborn instead of just being true to myself. I needed to learn to compromise without settling.
In marriage, there is the concept of "two becoming one." The challenge is creating a new, unified family while still allowing the individuals to maintain their identities. Twelve years ago, I was just starting to learn how to do this. In recognition of my feelings, I wrote a poem called "Reflecting Pool." In it, I depict my relationship as a dark but alluring body of water. I don't know what lies beneath the surface, and I could drown in the pool (losing my identity). That is true of every body of water, though, and people still go swimming.
Reflecting Pool
Reflecting pool...quiet in the midnight black, shimmering with the soft lights that draw attention to its murmuring surface...stepping closer, I see my face, but the ripples distort its proportions, altering me as though I were a wave, carried along by the breeze...I long to step into the cool water, to be enveloped by the liquid blanket inches away from my toes...I want this pool to consume me, fill me, heal me, give me direction...my passion toward it I can hardly conceal anymore, yet I know this water could just as easily kill me...I let my foot slip into the ebony depths, and before I know it, dark currents are gliding past my waist...I turn to view the shore once more, unsure of whether I should continue on into this pool that is supposed to be me, but actually reflects you…
Since I was single throughout most of high school, I had a lot of time to focus on myself and my friendships. This meant that I had a pretty good idea of who I was and what I wanted out of life. If I stumbled, I had close friends who could set me straight. Yes, I wanted to have a boyfriend, but I wasn't so desperate for a relationship that I would pretend to be someone else.
I saw plenty of cases where this was not true. In fact, one of my best friends in high school suffered through a terrible relationship. When she met her next boyfriend, she was so happy he treated her well that she spent her free time only with him. Once we graduated, my friend group never saw her again.
In other cases, I've seen girls completely lose their identities. They do whatever their boyfriends or husbands want to do; they believe everything the man believes. From an outside perspective, it is heartbreaking because it is almost like the girl has completely disappeared. My old friend is gone.
I had a stronger personality back in high school, and I was lucky that my husband accepted me as I was. In the early stages of our relationship, though, I was afraid of changing too much. When we got more serious, I was in uncharted territory. Now my decisions could affect our future together. I had to figure out when I was being stubborn instead of just being true to myself. I needed to learn to compromise without settling.
In marriage, there is the concept of "two becoming one." The challenge is creating a new, unified family while still allowing the individuals to maintain their identities. Twelve years ago, I was just starting to learn how to do this. In recognition of my feelings, I wrote a poem called "Reflecting Pool." In it, I depict my relationship as a dark but alluring body of water. I don't know what lies beneath the surface, and I could drown in the pool (losing my identity). That is true of every body of water, though, and people still go swimming.
Reflecting Pool
Reflecting pool...quiet in the midnight black, shimmering with the soft lights that draw attention to its murmuring surface...stepping closer, I see my face, but the ripples distort its proportions, altering me as though I were a wave, carried along by the breeze...I long to step into the cool water, to be enveloped by the liquid blanket inches away from my toes...I want this pool to consume me, fill me, heal me, give me direction...my passion toward it I can hardly conceal anymore, yet I know this water could just as easily kill me...I let my foot slip into the ebony depths, and before I know it, dark currents are gliding past my waist...I turn to view the shore once more, unsure of whether I should continue on into this pool that is supposed to be me, but actually reflects you…
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