The Only Thing Coddled is an Egg In Our House

Are you married? I am.


Marital Bliss

My husband and I went to high school together (although he’s a bit older) and connected many decades later. We could’ve been one of those couples that Oprah interviewed about unconventional ways to finding true love.

I am his second wife. He is my first husband.

When I re-met him, I was a single diva living in a big city. Our relationship was a commuter one for nearly a year and I then moved back to my hometown. Don’t think there are days when I could kick myself for not keeping the lease on my apartment, but most days, minutes and seconds, I cannot imagine being anywhere else but exactly where I am.

Prince of Practicality

My husband is an amazing man, just like all of yours, I imagine. His first marriage ended due to some extremely poor choices made by his then wife. They have a son and my husband was unflappable and laser-focused on making absolutely certain that there were minimal disruptions in his son’s life. It was his steadfast conviction that was responsible for one of the three chemical reactions, adrenaline, dopamine or serotonin, that pushed me off the cliff where I fell silly in love- still am today.

Are you thinking I’m going to keep going about his many attributes? Screeeecccccccccccccccchhhhh, cue the brakes. Hell, no.

So, the characteristic I respect and admire, caused some issues early on and sometimes today in our union of wedded bliss. Come to find out, all that strength and unflappability, both very dominant characteristics, mean that my husband is not a coddler.

Please, don’t misunderstand. My husband is wonderful (most of the time) and who else would put up with my fiercely50ish bad-self?

And, you know this includes a silver lining. Because the only thing that gets coddled in our house is an egg, I have been challenged to dig deep to find my strength and unflappability. I vividly recall one conversation-SQUIRREL MOMENT-as women don’t we always remember everything? I mean everything including the date, where you were, what you were wearing (duh), what others were wearing when the conversation was going on. Back to the blog. I was very weepy about my husband not giving me the attention I thought I deserved, translation, I was having a pity party and wanted more guests to attend. He said, “I am not responsible for your happiness, my darling. You are. That’s what makes our relationship strong. I want to make you happy through my actions, but only you are responsible for your happiness.”

Damn. At that time, I wanted to have a further temper tantrum but felt it may be overkill. I probably stomped upstairs and wallowed in my own drama. Our conversation set the foundation for my journey of strength leading to confidence. It hasn’t been easy, and there were many times and situations where I wanted to slither into a hole of self-denial and blame. I like to think my perseverance and my husband’s non-wavering support for me to find my happiness at the time has landed me here-Fiercely50ish.

So, I am ok with eggs being the only thing coddled in our house. Good thing I love eggs.