“You know that,” is what you keep telling me when I stand in the bedroom during one of those nights, with tears streaming down my face. You actually say it in a very loving way while looking at me.
But I am exhausted. I feel empty.
I am spiraling down that dark hole that I was trapped in 17 months ago when our son was born. I feel numb. Yet I am supposed to know, in the middle of the chaos surrounding me, extreme type-A person, that I am doing a great job.
I am supposed to know that I am beautiful.
I am supposed to know that I am a good mother to our child.
And I am supposed to know that you know I am doing a lot by juggling the household, the dog, trying to go after my side hustle, while raising and teaching a squirmy, very active, little toddler.
I am supposed to know that you appreciate me, your wife, very much.
And, of course, I am supposed to know that you love me, deeply.
But, dearest husband, I urge you: Please don’t just assume I know.
Sometimes, secretly, I wish we could go back to our early days. Text messages in anticipation of an exciting date night. A lot of touch. A lot of love—spoken. I remember so vividly the carefree weekends we spent together. There was so much affection. But what I miss most about that time are the words that we spoke to each other. Wasn’t it just yesterday?
The day we got married—after not even a year of dating—brought us closer than ever. We envisioned our future together. We envisioned life as a happy, married couple, grounded in our faith and growing together in love. We very envisioning so clearly a little family of our own and that, dear husband, became reality faster than we thought possible. Because God is good.
But what happened to us? You and me? The couple?
They were right when they said that a child changes everything. I changed. You changed. We changed. For the better—for our son. But for us? We became parents and had to learn to give up so much. Mostly, time together.
You see, beloved husband, the first year of being new parents to our precious son was the hardest test of our marriage. Sometimes, we felt like we didn’t even know each other anymore. But we made it through the storm. Because in the end, we came out stronger than before.
We managed to adjust. We managed to find a new structure with a baby in our life. And we managed to find such great joy and gratitude in our new role as parents. But, dearest husband, please don’t just assume I know you still love me, your wife, the same. Because I have not managed to adjust to the fact that we only get very small windows of time together. I miss you, I miss us, all too often.
And I need to hear it from you that you miss me, too. I need you to say the words that build me up at the end of a long day. The words that speak life into me and make me see that everything is wonderful, because we, you and I, are still the same: in love and appreciative of each other. I need you to not just assume that I know all the things you appreciate about me.
So, please, speak those words. They have such profound impact.
You see, I love the life we are building as a family. I truly am thankful for the blessings in our life. And I am so extremely grateful for the wonderful father and husband that you are. But, getting caught up in daily life means the words we once spoke to each other, lovingly, are hidden in our minds. I, too am guilty of not reassuring and encouraging you enough.
So, dearest husband, please don’t just assume I know. And I, too will not just assume you know how much I care about and appreciate you. Let us work together as the great team we are, speaking the much-needed words to strengthen each other into our hearts and souls.
Because, it was you and me from the beginning, and it will be us, after all. That, I don’t just assume—that, I know.
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