Me as a "Wife"

We easily think of a wife as a mere title, a label that gets pinned on someone after a wedding ceremony. In reality, it is a journey that evolves over time. At the start of my journey to becoming a wife, I thought that it meant sharing everything with each other, being present for one another, and loving without conditions. I was partially correct, but there is much more.

The journey of being a wife is not only limited to celebrating moments of joy. It also includes the quiet celebration of one vulnerability with another. It is how you carry them when they feel like the world is too heavy. It is also how you are able to let each other laugh even when everything is tough. Eventually, I came to understand that being a wife is also about receiving; receiving love, acceptance, understanding, and support.

I recall the blissful period in my life where everything felt like a stroll in the park. The overwhelming waves of infatuation hid our future goals. Everything changed when life began taking its course; responsibilities set in, and being a spouse unveiled new dimensions of life. There were still moments of comfort in the still morning hours spent over coffee, where words were not needed. Simply existing together captured togetherness.

Our wedding and its related events were jubilant. As husband and wife, when the wedding dusk settled, I remember standing with him in the middle of our new shared bedroom, away from the world. We were clouded with emotions like deep love, underlying tension, thrilling nerves, a sense of becoming, and gaze full of compassion which somehow made everything outside the bubble disappear. I'd call that the single moment I realized I'd married him – not him anymore: just the man I love but a lifelong will I was committing for.

His palm interlaced with mine, and we lowered ourselves to the edge of the bed. That gentle, endearing smile—one I always perceived made me feel like the only person in the room—broke onto his lips. No words were needed. Our silence was golden. Then, during the still hours of the night, he placed a light kiss on my lips. A kiss that was slow, gentle, and filled with promises. More than a simple peck, it served as a stamp regarding our life together. I realized I had found my home in my his arms.

As time moved forward, the apparent bliss turned into reality's deceitful face. We tended to argue. A combination of life’s everyday stress, towering responsibilities, and the strain of evolving together accompanied by a never-ending spiral of dissatisfaction. I continued to find few moments of calm amidst the chaos. Most of it, if not all, was gifted to me by him.

I recollect one evening in particular when we were both drained from all the work we had to do during the week. We sat on the couch together – my hand in his, and his hand over mine. In silence, he pulled me into his arms and we held one another. I felt the world melt away when he softly said, “I love you”. His voice was gentle like the words he spoke, and I understood that in every situation, no matter how exerting it was, we always valued each other's company. Those calm nights where no conversations were exchanged were at times the most beautiful. Simply existing together was enough when being held in one another’s embrace.

He always had a way of making me feel special. He’d get up early to brew my favorite coffee, scribble sweet little notes hidden away in my purse, and even arrange surprise dinner dates after long, exhausting days at the office. All those small gestures conveyed one loud, clear message, and I’m sure you’ve already guessed it: “I’m yours.” I showed him that very same message too - by cherishing him, hearing his deepest aspirations, and putting forth every bit of my being into making him feel special.

Without a shadow of a doubt, one of the most romantic aspects of our relationship, and later, my partnership, was the fact that he unconditionally loved me. No matter the day I was having, good or bad, I could always count on him. During my lowest of lows, when I was battling a severe lack of self-worth, he’d hold my hand and lift me up with those caring words: “You’re everything to me. Don’t ever forget that.” This sort of unconditional support, that truthfully I had never experienced prior, simply devoured me, propelling me to keep moving through hard times instead of surrendering.

Going through the obstacles in life, our love transformed. It became stronger not just for the sake of passion and affection, but for partnership, respect, and trust as well. Having his wife meant knowing that, no matter what life threw our way, we always faced it together. Be it comforting each other through the rough patches, having quiet yet heart warming moments alongside each other, or even laughing over silly inside jokes, I was assured that I had found my soulmate.

Our relationship shall not merely be termed as a romantic one; it is an endless shared adventure, a journey of love and growing together. It is beautiful in the grace of learning and forgiving. Standing beside him, years down our marital journey makes me realize that the romance I assumed was short-lived is, indeed, everlasting. It stays alive in the everyday repetitive, yet beautiful moments filled with quiet and subtle expressions of love.

Being his wife is a privilege I will bear every day. It’s a responsibility that I treasure, and one that persistently makes me realize that love is not merely a feeling— it’s a choice. It’s the decision of choosing one another for every day, and relishing the small, sweet moments that constitute our existence together.