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(on why I have not been a better wife until now)

Dear Husband,

I’m sorry that I forgot it is OK to not be perfect.

I am sorry that I have not shown my body more grace after growing with our three young children.

I am sorry that I forgot how much fun it is to laugh.

I am sorry that I forgot how alive I feel when I pursue what I love.

I am sorry that I forgot to believe in me.

I am sorry that I forgot to nurture myself.

I am sorry that I forgot to believe in myself.

I am sorry that I forgot that it isn’t my place to be everything to you but to be everything for me so that we can have everything when we are together.

I am sorry that I forgot.

I was so in love. This man, he entered my life like a warm breeze that filled my lungs with the air of new life. A happiness so intoxicating and a love so deep I only ever wanted to be everything for him, to him; forever. 

That was my first mistake.

I have failed. I professed perfection and clarity. I vowed in sickness and health, for richer or poorer. I meant it. I did. 

But I didn’t know what any of it meant. 

I romanticized the whole thing. This being a wife ‘thing.’  I had made this title an identity and had no idea how to wear the uniform. 

So I got lost.

I went into each day trying to make sense of it, losing bits and pieces of me in an attempt to absorb more of this new wife-person identity. 

I forgot.

I forgot that his love for me was because of who I was and that he asked me to live out forever with him because of that

I didn’t even know it was happening as I went through the motions of living out each day. I woke up each morning with my eyes set on the bar of expectation (I had inflicted on myself) fighting to achieve it.

Then kids came.

Pregnancy hormones, new mom insecurities, total sleep deprivation, diapers and tears and more role confusion. 

Mom was a title, a role I knew that I wanted since I was small. I professed undying love. I vowed in all things to love them true. I meant it. I still do.

But I didn’t know what any of it meant.

I romanticized the whole thing. This being a mom ‘thing.’    I had this new title, this new identity to try and embody and had no idea how to wear the many hats it came with.

So I got lost.

I went into each day more exhausted then the day before from jumping (flailing wildly) at this bar, this expectation I had set for myself.

Then the bottom came. I was done with being tired. I had been pouring out for too long and was tired of feeling as though I was never going to measure up. It was time for me to fill my cup in restoration of myself.

It wasn’t easy. It didn’t happen in one day. It was (is) a gradual process. But I threw that imposing, unattainable bar of expectation to the ground and found a home for it in the garbage pile with all of my other nonsense thinking.

Husband,

I am sorry that I made it about you and not about me.

Here’s to changing that,

Your ever loving wife

Amy Bruinsma

Hello! My name is Amy and I am The Optimistic Mama! I am a stay at home mom married to the love of my life, doing the best I know how to be to our three little people. My hope is to grow them into difference makers, each their own beacon of light. I live in rural Southern Ontario where I enjoy (extremely) early mornings with my wee ones leading to full coffee mugs and beautiful sunrises, walks amongst the trees, small hands in mine, adventures in stick and pebble collection and anything in between. The intention behind The Optimistic Mama is to be voice of encouragement in a perpetually exhausting season of life. My hope to all who read my words is a simple one; be encouraged! http://www.theoptimisticmama.com/

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