From the prompt “Expectations of My Partner” — the DailyOM.com
When I first met my husband on a blind date over 30 years ago, I was at a point in my life completely bereft of any hope or expectations. I was 30 years old and had spent 15 years in and out of relationships, not all bad, but none ultimately successful. I really felt hopeless and was going through a period of self-reflection whereby I truly wondered if “It” was ever going to happen. I’d been in love, and been loved, but never concurrently. I’d been hurt, disappointed by others and also by my own actions. I’d made good decisions, followed by bad choices. I’d lost or let go of several of the potential “Ones” and had reached a place of extreme self-doubt and discouragement. This upcoming blind date didn’t feel very hopeful, given my propensity of failures. I had no expectations whatsoever. The only reason I agreed to the date was to oblige the friend that was setting me up, a new friend who didn’t really know me at all. But I was, for all my despair, a trooper, and gave it a go.
This man, Alan, was painfully shy. I knew right away that he had roughly the same level of expectation as I did, which was to say, not much at all. He agreed to the date for the same reason I did and he was also not well known to the fixer-upper. Given my many years of experience, I carried the date along through conversation while he remained rather quiet and not terribly forthcoming. We had opposite personalities; I was outgoing and by all outward appearances optimistic while he was terribly shy and seemingly without a lot of confidence.
The date was okay, as blind dates go, and again, I had no expectations. Imagine my surprise when he called me the next week for a second date. Very unexpected!
Our second date was a bit more successful and I could tell we both began to feel a level of comfort with each other. I kind of actually liked him, but I still felt hopeless that this would turn into anything. Too many bad past experiences had cured me of any idealism that this guy would be any different, But in his shy, quiet way, I found him to be so kind, so solid, so uncomplicated and organically authentic. Over our next few dates, I actually began to feel a bit of hope. Could he be the One? I began to see him as someone who was real. Really real. Like, everything out on the table real. No games, no flip-flopping, no drama. I’d never met anyone like him.
Luckily, the feeling was mutual and by gosh, we fell quickly in love! At the same time! How could this be? This man, Alan, my future husband, had given me the gift of hope. He’d gently taught me the joy of expectation of having and deserving a good life partner. I’d never felt those feelings before in a relationship and I admit I was a bit gobsmacked. He was genuine! He was real! And he was mine for the choosing, and I chose him. I chose to accept his humble offer of hope, positivity, and a future. I was able to believe that it was okay to have high expectations. Alan has given me 30 years of high hopes and expectations and he has never failed me.
And for that gift, my love, I thank you.
