Something you should know about me: my love language is Words of Affirmation. I'm a sucker for handwritten notes, out-of-the-blue I-love-yous, and impassioned declarations of friendship. I dish it, I take it. I'm all about letting people know that they are adored.
Another thing you should probably know about me is that I am chronically twelve-years-old. I love to make jokes about butts and, as my husband often says of me, I've never met a fart sound I did not like. This is the sad, yet wonderful truth about me. Take it or leave it.
That being said, I've decided to combine these two qualities -- my zest for affirmation and my love of irreverent humor -- by creating some affirming, yet not-so-cheesy Valentine's Day cards! If you are looking for just the right thing to say to someone you love, I'm pretty sure I've got you covered with at least one of these.
A few things to note about these cards:
-All of these cards were handwritten by me and then dressed up in Photoshop. Technically, you could tell the recipient that these are handwritten notes, and you wouldn't be lying, so that's cool.
-Below each image, you can click the link to get the printable version. They are sized to print as cards (not giant wall posters).
-Feel free to save them to your phone and just text them instead. That's what I'll be doing on February 14th.
-Cards 1 & 2 can pretty much be given to any loved one.
-Cards 3 & 4 are intended for someone with whom you are romantically involved.
-Card 5 is for anyone, friend or lover, who you think has a nice butt. Here you go!
Today, I'm linking up with The Daily Tay and Life of Bon to talk about this crazy little thing called love. But first, as always, allow me to ramble my way into it...
Last night, I went to a discussion on modern romance hosted by comedian Aziz Anzari and NYU professor of Sociology, Eric Klinenberg. Going in, I had no real idea what to expect. I had applied through Aziz's website a while back when they were looking for folks in committed relationships to participate in some sort of conversation. I figured it was a long shot, which is why my brain did a little irish jig upon receiving an email that said I had been selected. I was asked not to bring my significant other, so instead, I brought a significant someone else: my beautiful friend, Lauren.
Lauren and I gal-ing it up on GALentine's before the discussion began
At the top of the show, Aziz worked on some of his new material with all of us, and no surprises here, I was in absolute stitches. That man is such a treasure. From there, he invited Klinenberg to the stage to help facilitate a conversation with the audience. I won't get into the details of the discussion here since it will likely be used for their future projects, but let me just say that it was lively, hilarious, thought-provoking, and generally very respectful. A lot of the topics brought up didn't specifically pertain to my relationship (I haven't been single since I was sixteen years old, so I am not so familiar with the intricacies of modern dating). Because of this, I never added my two cents at any point, but it was seriously fascinating to listen to people working out what it means to be in a committed relationship at this stage in life.
But of course, I'd still love to give you my insight, if that's okay.
If you are a reader of this blog, you know my stance on romantic relationships, particularly of the marital variety -- overwhelmingly PRO. My husband and I have been married for two years, dated six years before that, and we are genuinely pumped by the idea of riding this old marriage train to its last stop ("last stop" being a fun euphemism for death, by the way).
"Here we go!"
So while we are pretty jazzed about the whole marital concept, the question still remains: why exactly do Daniel and I "work"?
The truth is, we don't, or rather, we shouldn't. In many ways, our most stand-out qualities are totally at odds with each other.
He's easy-going.
I'm a Queen Victoria-level control-freak.
I'm an introvert (frustrated with being mistaken for an extrovert).
He's an extrovert (with the sometimes-appearance of an introvert).
He's a science teacher.
I once (regrettably) told my 7th grade science teacher that her class was a waste of my time.
He eats cottage cheese...just, like, on its own.
I...do not...because that's disgusting.
We are different in so many ways, but it's mostly the compatible kind of different -- the kind which strengthens the other person in an area where they might feel lacking. I once described this concept of compatibility to someone as "filling each other's holes." This individual looked at me with an embarrassed expression, and then I took a beat and said, "Ooooh...no. Wait. Forget I said that."
So instead, think of it as filling each other's...cracks? Gaps? Gaps. There, that's better. Nailed it.
To give an example of this: Daniel's patience is a powerful antidote to my anxiety. His calm demeanor is like someone holding up a mirror to all of my life's overreactions. On the other side of things, according to Daniel, I help him see the world -- and particularly his relationships -- differently because of my sensitivity to the people around me. No big thang.
But if our relationship is a time piece then all of these little, happy differences are just the screws and cogs, but they are not what make the whole thing function. I think (and Daniel agrees. We talk about this a lot.) that the most basic thing that makes us "work" is the fact that we are profoundly FOR each other. My dreams are Daniel's dreams, and his are mine. We want, in a very real way, for the other person to have a wonderful life even to the point of setting aside our pride (sometimes).
And I don't actually think this makes us very unique. This is probably the trademark quality of a lot of relationships. I've been observing this recently while watching the Olympics (a thing I never would have done without Daniel, by the way). There a lot of things I love about the Olympics, but I particularly appreciate watching the faces of moms and spouses moments before their favorite person in the world prepares to hurl themselves down a snowy mountain. There is that look of anticipation, joy, fear, but most of all, belief.
That's honestly how I feel every day with Daniel -- like I'm on the sidelines of the most important figure skating routine of his life (just kidding, he would obviously do the louge), and all I can do is hold up some ridiculous, homemade sign and pray he doesn't die.
Yana Plushenko cheering on her hubs, Evegni, in the classiest way she knows how. (via)
And simultaneously, he's in my corner too freezing his ass off, willing me to land that triple axel.
Or maybe we're pairs skaters. I don't know. This metaphor is falling apart.
But you get my point. We believe in each other. We are each other's biggest fans.
Oh, and also, we're super into each other. That should not be overlooked in all of this because being fans of each other is not enough. I should know because I used to be Kevin Richardson's biggest fan, and now if I saw that guy walking down the street, I'd probably just keep on walking. Admiration for each other does not make up for broken expectations, moments when we essentially fail each other. That's a thing that really happens in marriage, and it's the scary part that makes a lot of people walk away.
But love trumps all of our conditions -- the ones we all say we don't have for each other, but really we do. Love ushers in forgiveness, understanding, and joy. Daniel and I work because we really love each other.
And all of the joyful things of marriage after that just become bonuses. Watching Planet Earth together before bed, making fajitas, Daniel's ability to cheer me up instantly by saying "I'll sweep...I'll sweep the floor!" -- all of these things don't necessarily make us work, but they do make us awesome.
And speaking of awesome, here are some fantastically awkward pictures of Daniel and I back in the day:
Daniel, the first week I met him. At the time, this was the most beautiful person I had ever seen in my entire life. I mean, he still is, but I'm now partial to the updated version.
Sneaking a selfie circa 2005, a month before we started dating and before selfies were even called selfies.
And here's a more recent selfie of us for comparison.
What makes your relationship work? Let me know in the comments section, or write a post of your own and link it up!
Today Daniel and I have been married for TWO YEARS.
All day long, I've been wondering what I was doing exactly at this moment two years ago.
At this current moment, I was getting ready with five of the best women I know,
I was wondering what Daniel was up to,
I was sweating buckets,
I was laughing so hard at my soon-to-be sister-in-law,
and, of course, I was downing an entire box of Wheat Thins.
On August 19, 2011
Daniel made a ton of promises before me, our family & friends, and God.
He promised to protect me.
He promised to make decisions with me.
He promised to love me without condition.
He promised to forgive me.
If my memory serves me correctly, I made some similar promises as well.
Today, on August 19, 2013
it is so very clear that he meant those promises.
He protects.
He engages.
He loves me on my worst days.
He forgives.
Oh my, how he forgives.
While he may be holding my train in the above picture,
the truth is, he is conducting the train in our marriage.
Daniel provides direction for us
and encourages me to dream as big as big can be.
He works hard,
makes everyone smile,
and knows everything.
He's my hero.
I kind of want to be him when I grow up.
Hey Dan,
Happy Anniversary.
I hope to enjoy this long, crazy train ride
Sometimes when I'm feeling really flirty, I will hide behind a section of my hair and bat my eyes at my husband, and I'll ask him, "Why do you love me?" It's really embarrassing to admit that I do this, but it's always in the privacy of our own home or while sitting at a dark, candlelit table in a restaurant, so it's not like you have to watch this ridiculous display. He always answers the same way.
I love you because I love you.
It might sound kind of like a cop out, but it really is one of the most comforting things I've heard in my entire life. What Daniel means by this (and by the way, it's a concept he learned in a sermon by Tim Keller) is that it would do our relationship no service if his answer was I love you because you are beautiful or I love you because you are intelligent or I love you because you are funny. While those are all things that I love hearing about myself, if those were the reasons Daniel loved me, I would be in a constant state of fear of losing those things. It would mean that he would always have to reassess his love for me based on those qualifications. I would be terrified of age, falling pianos (brain damage), and bad days where I don't feel like telling jokes.
But I don't have to be afraid. He loves me because he loves me.
I'm sure you can point to someone in your life who is that for you. Someone who loves unconditionally and, sometimes, impossibly. The mystery of why they love you is overwhelming, but trust me, it's best not to question it.
I was thinking about this when I woke up this morning -- not just with Daniel, but all of the people in my life who love me in this way. I'm in one of my life's strangest, most beautiful seasons. I am going full-force, pursuing a career in writing. I am spending my time doing what I love, and I am building my own platform, making my own rules as I go.
It's a risky move, and some might even think it an objectively stupid one. But those are not the people in my life. The people in my life right now (at least the ones I'm listening to) are the people who love me because they love me. These are the people who over the last two months have been buying me books, coffees, dinners, and sending me articles, texts, and letters full of their love, wisdom, and support. I often start to feel guilty being on the receiving end of such gracious acts, but then one of them slaps me in the face (metaphorically) and tells me how dumb it is to feel guilty. It's awesome.
As powerful as "I love you" can be, I would argue that equally powerful is "I believe in you." Knowing that I have a small group of people who believe in me has made all of the difference. It's made me humble and it's made me brave.
I'm saying all of this today in hopes that you, someone who is giving me the gift of your readership, can see the people in your life who love you this way. They don't love you because you are pretty or because you are nice or because you smell like lavender. They love you because they love you. They are gifts from God, and though they might not always be as good at it as God is, they are trying to love you the way He does. Listen to them, trust them, and be brave. Also, love them back.
I'm going to leave you today with a song which speaks volumes about this whole concept far better than I can. The following video is from the memorial service of Jim Henson, a man whose creations taught us pretty much all of the important lessons in life, including how to believe in our ourselves and others.
A working knowledge of 90s country music was an essential and inescapable aspect of growing up in Helotes, Texas. In PE, we would run laps to Shania Twain's "Man, I Feel Like a Woman" and we would often quote George Strait's "Check Yes or No" in carefully crafted love letters. No matter what level of hipster you are, if you grew up in Helotes, chances are you know this song by Alan Jackson (don't deny it).
This song came into my mind recently when I was thinking back on my wedding day. Like my good friend Alan here, I would marry the same person all over again. His name is Daniel. He looks like this:
On our wedding day, he looked like this:
Obviously, it's a no-brainer. Given the chance to redo my wedding, I would choose Daniel every single time. However, there are some things that I would definitely do differently. Don't get me wrong -- I loved my wedding. It was the best day ever. Most of my regrets are just details that stem from the fact that Pinterest became a big thing about a minute after we said "I do". Now I have a constant feed of incredible wedding ideas that seemed otherwise unavailable to me at the time that I was planning my wedding.
Anyway, I don't have it to do all over, but maybe my hindsight could be someone else's foresight. Here now, for your bridal edification, is my list of Wedding Planning Do-Overs:
Do-over #1: I would wear an objectively sane outfit
whilst getting ready.
If you can't make out exactly what is happening in the above picture, that is because it is a HOT MESS. I am wearing bright pink shorts and a tank top that features a rhinestone octopus. Grace Kelly wore a similar ensemble the morning of her wedding (in a nightmare that David Tutera once had). My bra straps are proudly visible and I am eating Wheat Thins like it is my job. Feel free to Pin this because it's clearly a style you will want to emulate on the most important day of your life.
I don't really get the point of most wedding traditions (throwing rice kills birds and garters itch like hell), but I wanted to adhere to them because it was like a game for me. I don't think I had something blue, which probably destines Daniel and I for destruction. I could have prevented that if I'd painted my soles blue. Plus, they'd be so cute in pictures! If you're digging this idea, there are also some fabulous slip resistant sole stickers that might be a better temporary solution.
Do-over #3: I would have a videographer.
Ladies (and gentlemen maybe?), I am here to tell you that, regrettably, I do not have video footage from my wedding.
You are crying for me right now. I know it. This is the saddest thing you've heard all day.
Trying to do as much as possible on the cheap, I thought that moving images from that day would be something I could do without. What a fool I was. I would give anything for any kind of video documentation of our wedding.
Get a videographer, folks. If you cannot afford a videographer, slap a GoPro on the head of your five-year-old cousin and see what happens (this is actually an amazing idea. Do this regardless of your financial situation.) There is so much going on (drunk people fighting, amazing dance moves, YOU WALKING DOWN THE AISLE). You will miss something, and a video is a great way to relive it.
You probably already knew this. I'm the only idiot I know who doesn't have a wedding video.
There is a silver lining, though. I had an amazing photographer (Lauren Guy Summersett...book her) who captured so much of my day in great detail. Without video, I am able to leave pictures like the following up for hilarious interpretation:
Do-over #4: I would remember to smile
when walking down the aisle.
I super dropped the ball on this one. In imaging myself walking down the aisle, I always assumed I might cry a little. I mean, I once cried watching an episode of Full House. To be fair though, it was the episode where Papouli dies, and I had mono so I was a little disoriented.
Anyway, I was prepared to shed a tear, but nothing really could have prepared me for the moment those doors opened, and this amazing song was being beautifully sung, and my husband was standing there waiting for me. There's just nothing like that.
And it wasn't a pretty cry. Smiling through the tears was the last thing on my mind. I was a mess.
The picture above is the BEST picture of me walking down the aisle. At best, I look slightly annoyed. At worst, I look like I've fallen asleep midway through. So remember to smile, ladies! Your photographer will thank you.
Do-over #5: I would recommend that my guests use a hashtag (#oshoneywedding) for Twitter and Instagram.
I saw something like this on Pinterest like two weeks after my wedding and I was like....
It was very upsetting. Why oh why didn't I think of that?! I love hashtags. I love seeing pictures of myself with an X Pro II filter. It is the perfect marriage of things I love.
We are now well into the 2000s at this point, people. Unless you do not care about this kind of thing, you have no excuse not to post a hashtag at your wedding. Not to be dramatic, but you might be clinically insane if you do not do this. I'm just saying...
Do-over #6: I would honor, in some major way, everyone who helped with our wedding.
I could not be more thankful to the people who were a part of our wedding. Literally everyone who was there did something incredible for us. My dad risked his life hanging papel picado all over our reception space. We had four of the most giving women I've ever known literally set up every other decoration. Our musicians were our incredibly talented friends who set the tone for our beautiful ceremony. My five bridesmaids were rock stars. Emily and her now fiance, Michael, put together our entire rehearsal dinner. Kaley wrote and performed a song as her wedding toast. Lara traveled all the way from Knoxville so that I could steal the covers from her in the bed we shared the night before the wedding. My sister, Johanna, fed me grapes like I was Cleopatra or something. Daniel's sister, Jessica made me laugh so hard I almost died.
We gave some small gifts to everyone, but I wish we had done so much more. As much as a wedding is about the bride and groom, it is so much also about all of the beautiful people that God puts in your life. There are two things from that day that will always be crystal clear memories for me. The first is when I walked down the aisle to Daniel. The second is this moment:
All of these selfless, wonderful people who have my deepest respect and love decided to dance like fools around us as Daniel and I danced to "Dream a Little Dream of Me". It was kind of perfect, and it was a moment that embodied exactly how loved we felt on that day.
When we get famous, we'll probably buy all of these people corvettes or at least Target gift cards or something.
Lastly, Do-over #7: I would have bought something nice on which to hang my dress.
Plastic hangers make the most expensive item of clothing of your life look like it was bought off the rack at Marshall's (no judgement if it was).
Get yourself one of those pretty wooden hangers like they have at Anthropologie. Better yet, get one of these fancy hangers where the wire identifies who you are. You'll be glad you did.
There you have it. These are just a few small regrets from a day that brought me so much joy that I still can't stop talking about it. Just so you don't leave this post thinking that I regret my marriage, it is probably a good idea to show you some things from my wedding that I got right.
My Wedding Do-All-Over-Agains
1. I would wear this dress.
and I would make this same I-know-I-look-good face
2. I would spend the day with these beautiful women.
3. I would have a whimsical theme and not care if anyone thinks it's weird.
4. I would shake this maraca.
5. I would do my own makeup so that I don't end up looking like this:
6. I would have it in Austin, Texas.
Vintage Villas
7. I would marry this guy...all over again.
Please share this post on Pinterest and elsewhere so that future brides can learn from my not-so-terrible mistakes! If you'd like to learn about more ways to avoid weird mistakes in life, feel free to follow Avoiding Atrophy (in the column on the right side) because seriously I write about this junk all the time.
Move on to Part Two of this post for even more Wedding Do-Overs!
Lastly, I've compiled some product ideas from this post below. Hope these are helpful in prepping for your super stellar upcoming wedding!
“So, you’re married at twenty-two? Why? That seems pretty
young.”
This question, before several other logical ones, was the
first asked on a phone interview for a nanny position in Austin, Texas back in
the fall of 2011. I had just gotten married, and I was looking for transitional
work in-between a disappointing stint at Anthropologie and what I assumed would
be my big break. To be fair, this mother probably had little-to-no experience
with conducting a professional interview, but nonetheless, the question she asked
was jarring. Immediately, I was in the position of having to defend a decision
that seemed to have nothing to do with my qualifications as a nanny.
I felt slightly electrocuted by this question, but when I
think about where she was coming from, I mostly get it. This mom was reading my
Care.com profile, saw that I got married right out of college, and suddenly she
was picturing me with long fingernails and an ankle-length denim skirt. She’s
imagining me teaching her daughter the dangers of book-reading and that belief
in dinosaurs is an evil akin to murder.
Needless to say, I did not get the job. It was at this time
that I realized that I was going to need a pre-packaged defense, and whatever
it was needed to make me sound as normal as possible. Since moving to New York
and starting a job where I talk to new people every day, I am asked the
married-at-twenty-two question on an almost-daily basis. Usually people ask it
with a face that looks like they just ate a bug. A preemptive response has not
really formed yet for me, and it usually goes something like, “Yeah, I know. It’s
weird. I mean, I don’t even own a long denim skirt. Wait. I mean, I do, but it’s
calf-length. Anyway…and we dated for a long time…and I’m not saying I recommend
it for everyone, or anyone even, but you know. It’s just like…”
It also doesn’t help that, at twenty-three-years-old, I look
way younger than my age. I don’t know what exactly happened, but at the age of
thirteen, my body was like I’m just going
to camp out here until you’re thirty, and at that point I’ll just skip ahead to
about eighty-three (I’m assuming this is what is going to happen, and I’m
terrified). When people ask me why I got married so young, they might also be
wondering if it was difficult for me to plan a wedding while teething or if I
had my blankey with me on our honeymoon.
But I digress…
I’ve had a pretty long time to process
this whole married-at-twenty-two question, and the more I think about it, the
more I wonder why I even have to answer it at all. I am supremely proud of my
marriage. My husband is brilliant, loyal, strong, patient, hilarious, handsome
as a Disney prince, and he legitimately enjoys watching Project Runway with me. Through the six years that we dated, our
relationship grew in maturity on a foundation of trust and patience. In terms
of my decision to marry him, I am nothing but confident.
Don’t we seem confident? By the way, the thirteen-year-old boy is me and the smoldering gentlemen is my husband. Also, we don’t usually dress this way, but we wish we did.
Throughout our first year of marriage, it
has become more and more clear that there exists a kind of quasi-prejudice
against women who marry out of college. It’s not so strong that it keeps us
from getting work (unless you want to be a nanny for that one lady’s kids, I
guess) or that it infringes on any basic human rights, but it is enough to make
me, and others like me, feel sort of dismissed.
I was reflecting on these feelings one
day when my sister sent me an op-ed piece written by a woman in a similar
situation. Her name is Lauren Ambler and she is also married at the ripe age of
twenty-two. She titles her piece, I’m
Married Young and I’m Ashamed of It, which struck me initially as a
tongue-and-cheek way of saying some of the same things that I had been thinking.
I thought this girl and I were going to relate, and I would give her a big
high-five by way of the comments-section.
Tragically, Lauren Ambler and I do not exactly
relate. Feel free to check out her article. Having married her boyfriend under unique circumstances (he needed
a visa to stay in the country), she is definitely not exactly like me, but in
many ways she is. Like Ambler, I never fantasized as a child about my wedding
or even about a husband. I also agree that seeing marriage as a goal is
dangerous for women on both an individual and ultimately larger scale. I
certainly understand feeling the need to convince my single friends that I am
not going to fall asleep if we go get margaritas (I might, but I just have a
really strong tequila response).
I do sympathize with some of Ambler’s
hesitations about the institution of marriage. We easily recall a time when
most women in America married at young ages (a large percentage, as early as nineteen-years-old),
never to work towards goals outside of their own homes. If these women did
work, it was to bide their time as they prayed against spinsterhood.
Homemaking was revered as a woman’s great American duty. While I see absolutely
nothing wrong with stay-at-home moms (I know several and they crush it 24/7), I
am happy to live in a world with options.
Where I differ most with Ambler, apart
from the fact that I totally disagree on her stance that marriage should be open,
is when she calls herself a “child bride”. This is the thing that we millenials
are constantly criticized for: that we prolong our childhood in a way that
makes us helpless even at an age where we should be considered adults. I am not
a child. My married friends of the same age are, by no means, children. We are
adults who have made a choice, and we are sticking by it.
Now, that being said, I do not think this
is for everyone. If it exists, I will not be joining the Coalition to Increase
Young Marriages (It doesn’t exist. I just googled it). I think getting married
young is largely a mistake for many for the same reasons that some would assume
it is a mistake for me. We all know the potential damage that this could cause
for a woman. She could drop all of her dreams. She could lose all of her
friends. She could decide he’s a skeevy dirt-bag and suffer through a senseless
divorce only to find that she has no support left. This kind of thing really
does happen all of the time, and it is a shame.
But certainly this is not a uniform fate
for every woman who marries young. Certainly there are those of us who feel
logically compelled to make this decision based on our lengthy commitment, our
unfaltering love for our husbands, and our determination to pursue our passions
alongside the ones we love, not despite them.
You might call us the exception to the
rule, but I don’t think I even like the rule to begin with. American women are
far more progressive than that. Being “single” and being a “spinster” are no
longer synonymous terms. You can be a mom and an astronaut and a tattoo artist
and a grad student four times over, and in all of that, you don’t have to marry
anyone, and everyone is (or should be) totally cool with that. We owe a huge
debt of gratitude to those who went before us and awakened the world to a new
realm of legitimate options for women.
All I ask is that you at least consider
the legitimacy of my option as well. Could we be progressive enough to reappropriate
marriage-after-college to be a respectable choice instead of an enslaving
fun-sucker? Are we that radical yet?
It probably isn’t entirely fair to appeal
to your sense of rebellion. Use that revolutionary instinct to tackle far more important
women’s issues, like promoting economic justice and getting Lindsay Lohan back
to her Parent Trap days.
Just let me, in all of my marriedness,
come with you.
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