My husband didn't get plastic surgery. He's a natural beauty! [Hello Counselor/ENG,THA/2018.12.03]



No, My Husband Is Not My "Best Friend"

I dated a close friend once. We saw the world through the same lenses — literally. We were budding photographers, who loved to travel and make photo journals of our adventures together.

We told the exact same jokes. We rarely argued. We spent a lot of time mucking around doing absolutely nothing. A perfect match, one might think. We eased into dating after months of being in the friend zone. It was simple.

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Until it wasn't. As time went by, a budding realization crept up – that we never, not once, considered each other "the one." That we both spent more time looking over our shoulder for the next good thing than ogling each other. That's because we were friends, not partners. He soon met his "one," but it would be another handful of years — and a few important relationships later — before I would meet mine.

We were not friends first. We were definitelynotbest friends. And today, after a decade of marriage, I still don't consider him my best friend.

Best love? Yes. Father of my children? Yes.

Partner? Sometimes nemesis? The one I want near me for the rest of my days? Yes, yes and yes.

Best friend? No.

When we met, we came together with speed and vigor. There was no easing in. Within a week, we were living together. Within two weeks, engaged. Within a year, married.

And we fought — oh, how we fought. An introvert and an extrovert. A musician and a writer. One of us loves to travel. The other doesn't. We are passionate and complicated, and so very, very different. We don't like many of the same hobbies, books or TV shows. But we love each other. We share values. And we share space.

When I want to talk about friend things, I call a girlfriend. We like the same movies, the same music, the same conversations. We talk about our husbands — like only friends can do.

When I want unwavering support and unconditional love, I call my mother, who has known me every second of my life.

When I want to simply live my life, I have my husband. I don't need to call him; he is right there, in the house we share. The conversations we have about how to raise our children are — surprisingly — so much better than any child raising conversations I have with my friends. Because they are aboutourchildren. When I need to talk about my job, a terrible boss, work overload, I could call my friends – they would relate, of course. But Ihaveto talk to my husband. He's the one who helps me decide if we can afford to change directions. He's the one who can give me a break at home, and who rubs my shoulders to get rid of tense knots and pending migraines.

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When I am sick or hurting, he takes care of me. When I need to be challenged, he challenges me. And when I tell him my accomplishments, like, "I got something published!" he responds, with the full and casual confidence of a husband, "Well, yes, of course you did. Why would you expect anything less?"

When our buttons are pushed, we both say things to each other that we would never — in a million years — say to "friends." But we also do plenty of other things that we would not do with "friends." I am grateful that we have fewer boundaries, and more space to let loose with each other.

Besides, the work (and arguing) we have to put into finding television shows that we both like makes them all that more exciting to watch, together, snuggled on the couch, fighting over whose turn it is to get snacks.

Just as I love my children differently than I love anyone else (they are my babies, not my "friends") so goes the relationship with my husband. I love him as a spouse – not a friend. With any luck, and a lot of mutual hard work, he will never fade. He will never fizzle. And he will never be my "best friend." He will be my husband.






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Date: 10.12.2018, 17:03 / Views: 81343