My husband and I are coming up on 10 years in August. I didn't marry him for wealth or status. He's a hard working, God fearing, loving and respectful man who puts in a grueling day's work for us, his family. I am honored to be his wife and don't mind regularly coming second to our two precious children.
When we spoke our vows, we meant them. Forever. Only you. No one but you. Should he die before me, I will not remarry. He is my husband for all time.
What makes him so spectacular? Little things. If I kill myself cleaning the house so everything shines, he praises me. If I cook a particularly nice meal, he gives me a hug and a kiss as thanks. If I doll myself up and wait for him when he drags himself in at 12:30 a.m., he compliments me. When he realizes the kids are learning something new under my guidance, he acknowledges it. And when it's a particularly rough week at work and I'm running myself ragged, he loads the dishwasher or dries the laundry to help me.
But most importantly, when things get really tough, I can find strength in his powerful arms, rest my head against his broad shoulder, and I believe him completely when he says, "It's going to be alright, honey. We'll get through this." Even if he's lying to me, I still believe it, because I believe in him, in me, in us.
Count us in the 50% that stay together and make it work.
If your aunt had balls, she'd be your uncle.
I needed to meet you, not the woman I married. You'd have stuck through the tough times.