I sat in the store staring at the beautiful bouquet of flowers. I smiled as I reminisced to the very first bouquet I received from my husband. He sent close to 24 of them to my parents’ farmhouse out in the middle of nowhere. I grabbed the flowers and gently placed them on top of the bread and eggs. As I continued down the aisle, I called the old sweet memories of new love from the cobwebbed corners of my mind.

We evolved so quickly after having children. Once we were acclimated to the crazy, we slowly shifted from survival mode into an efficient routine. Maturity and responsibility took a front seat to the things we once believed to be important. We used to spend our evenings having mixed drinks and binge watching the latest TV-MA shows. As I pushed my cart from one aisle to the next, I wondered what happened to those carefree kids.

Somewhere along the way, those people became washed out by waves of late night feedings and nursery rhymes.

Although there was a small piece of my heart that missed our kid-less existence, I was deeply in love with our new life. We used to get bent out of shape over the most menial things, but in this season we pushed through the hectic nature of our lives like a well-maintained battleship. As I watched the small bouquet bounce around my cart, I smiled while my mind retraced the steps we walked as a young married couple.

I used to rely heavily on my husband to make me happy. Expectations brought many misunderstood feelings into our marriage. As a young wife, I believed my husband was in charge of my happiness. It had gotten so out of hand that I completely forgot what it felt like to tap into my heart and come back with genuine contentment.

The old me would have walked right past the floral section of the grocery store. I would have sighed deeply and wondered why my husband stopped buying things for me.

That girl is long gone.

Those beautiful flowers bouncing around in my cart were a symbol of my destination to my own happiness. I made sure to get some with roses, just like my husband used to, because those memories allowed me to feel anchored. Marriage, with its ups and downs, revealed to me the raw realities of life. Marriage humbled me to my core. Expectations became glazed over with experience. Misunderstandings were weeded out by communication. Everything I ever wanted to be for my husband was demolished by the truths I learned along the way.

As I carried the beautiful display of God’s artwork into my home, I quickly looked for my favorite vase. Excitement coursed through my veins as I placed my small badge of happiness on our dining room table. I am sure many would struggle to understand the significance of these flowers, but I found them to have a profound message. 

I am not who I once was, and my happiness is my own choice.

You may also like:

To My Husband: Thank You For Being A Great Man

Marriage Isn’t About Your Happiness

Marriage is Worth the Hard Parts

Lindsey Carson

My name is Lindsey. I am a military wife and a mom to three beautiful children. I am pretty domesticated and totally enjoy wife-y things like cooking and mothering. I am originally from New Mexico, which means I am a mexican food snob, and require my own basket of chips and salsa at the table. Above all, I am a Jesus believer, and I am simply trying to find my voice in this vast space of motherhood.