I was 22 when I convinced myself that I was never going to get married. None of my relationships up to that point had ever lasted more than a year. I was a bit young to be giving up hope, but things weren’t looking good and I thought it might be a good idea to start preparing myself for the inevitable.
So why, exactly, was I giving up hope at such a young age? Well, for starters I had very high standards and, in the words of Greg Behrendt, I just wasn’t that into anyone. The guys I was drawn to the most were often the guys that I couldn’t have. But maybe I wouldn’t have been into them either; after all, I didn't “get” them, so I never actually knew them long enough to confirm whether or not I was TRULY into them. If history does indeed repeat itself then I would've grown sick of them, too, within the year.
I tried to commend myself for being a “strong woman,” for knowing exactly what I wanted and refusing to “settle.” After all, this is someone that I have to spend the rest of my life with - this is a big deal! If there’s one minor thing that he does that annoys me, I have to think, can I live with this the rest of my life? Honestly, I think I would’ve broken up with someone because he ate his peas one at a time.
So, naturally I began to question my standards and my choosiness. I thought something was wrong with me, that maybe I wasn’t capable of loving someone enough to spend the rest of my life with him. I wanted to be IN LOVE, not just tolerate someone. But I had to face the facts; the odds of me finding a perfect match for my HIGH standards were very slim.
Here’s my list so that you can see for yourself…
· Must not have a criminal history.
· Must be a college graduate with a respectable job.
· Must be knowledgeable about a variety of topics, but not a know-it-all and not overly “book smart.”
· Must not have an unbearable Boston accent.
· Must be friendly to service workers.
· Must be somewhat chivalrous.
· Must be able to hold his own (socially) among a new group of people.
· Must understand and use sarcasm.
· Must like Seinfeld.
· Must like movies and TV.
· Must like FNX music and attending concerts.
· Must be open to owning dog/s, but not pitbulls, rottys, boxers, mastiffs, etc.
· Must like going out to eat.
· Must eat meat.
· Must not drink Budweiser or Bud Light.
· Must enjoy wine once in awhile.
· Must not smoke.
· Must include working out as a top priority.
· Must like sports, but cannot wear team jerseys.
· Must not wear tank tops of any kind out in public.
· Must be good-looking (shallow, but true, and don’t you try to deny it).
· Must be well dressed.
· Must have nice hair...and sideburns are a given.
· Must not have dirty hands and fingernails.
· Must not drive a pick-up.
· Must never be cheap, even when service isn’t that great.
· Must know that you do not go to a party empty-handed.
· Must be able to justify splurging every once in awhile.
· Must want to have 2-3 children.
· Must like to travel.
· Must not be a Republican.
· Must not be racist.
· Must be pro-choice.
· Must support same sex marriage.
· Must not be religious.
· Must meet the approval of my siblings.
· Must put up with me.
I know what you’re thinking - who do I think I am, right?
So why, exactly, was I giving up hope at such a young age? Well, for starters I had very high standards and, in the words of Greg Behrendt, I just wasn’t that into anyone. The guys I was drawn to the most were often the guys that I couldn’t have. But maybe I wouldn’t have been into them either; after all, I didn't “get” them, so I never actually knew them long enough to confirm whether or not I was TRULY into them. If history does indeed repeat itself then I would've grown sick of them, too, within the year.
I tried to commend myself for being a “strong woman,” for knowing exactly what I wanted and refusing to “settle.” After all, this is someone that I have to spend the rest of my life with - this is a big deal! If there’s one minor thing that he does that annoys me, I have to think, can I live with this the rest of my life? Honestly, I think I would’ve broken up with someone because he ate his peas one at a time.
So, naturally I began to question my standards and my choosiness. I thought something was wrong with me, that maybe I wasn’t capable of loving someone enough to spend the rest of my life with him. I wanted to be IN LOVE, not just tolerate someone. But I had to face the facts; the odds of me finding a perfect match for my HIGH standards were very slim.
Here’s my list so that you can see for yourself…
· Must not have a criminal history.
· Must be a college graduate with a respectable job.
· Must be knowledgeable about a variety of topics, but not a know-it-all and not overly “book smart.”
· Must not have an unbearable Boston accent.
· Must be friendly to service workers.
· Must be somewhat chivalrous.
· Must be able to hold his own (socially) among a new group of people.
· Must understand and use sarcasm.
· Must like Seinfeld.
· Must like movies and TV.
· Must like FNX music and attending concerts.
· Must be open to owning dog/s, but not pitbulls, rottys, boxers, mastiffs, etc.
· Must like going out to eat.
· Must eat meat.
· Must not drink Budweiser or Bud Light.
· Must enjoy wine once in awhile.
· Must not smoke.
· Must include working out as a top priority.
· Must like sports, but cannot wear team jerseys.
· Must not wear tank tops of any kind out in public.
· Must be good-looking (shallow, but true, and don’t you try to deny it).
· Must be well dressed.
· Must have nice hair...and sideburns are a given.
· Must not have dirty hands and fingernails.
· Must not drive a pick-up.
· Must never be cheap, even when service isn’t that great.
· Must know that you do not go to a party empty-handed.
· Must be able to justify splurging every once in awhile.
· Must want to have 2-3 children.
· Must like to travel.
· Must not be a Republican.
· Must not be racist.
· Must be pro-choice.
· Must support same sex marriage.
· Must not be religious.
· Must meet the approval of my siblings.
· Must put up with me.
I know what you’re thinking - who do I think I am, right?
Well, here’s the thing, I’ve never considered myself a lucky person mainly because I’ve always associated luck with winning. Sure, I’ve won some money on scratch tickets here and there and I won a few coloring contests when I was younger, but I would never go so far as to call myself lucky. If you think about it, luck really has little to do with winning. As cheesy as this may sound, luck is more about happiness and success. And winning doesn’t always bring happiness and success, does it?
As you probably know, I’ve been married for over a year now. Matt and I have been together for almost 8 years, but we’ve known each other since the 7th grade. That’s a total of 17 years! We’ve known each other longer than we haven’t known each other.
Because I’ve known Matt for so long, I sometimes wonder if I subconsciously built that ridiculous list around him. But, even if I did, there’s no denying the fact that I got REALLY lucky. I’m not exactly sure what I did to deserve it, but, somehow, I managed to beat those incredible odds. I thought I would spend my entire life searching for my favorite person, but he was right there all along. And, thankfully, he puts up with me.
Happy 30th Birthday, Matt!
2 comments:
Awesome. What a sweet tribute. It's nice to know that there are married people who are each other's biggest fans - go love!
Doesn't Matt drink bud light? or is that only when your not around?
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