You know what they don’t tell you when you get married? That what you preconceived in your daydreams as a little girl is the furthest away from reality that you ever did see. That your Dad really wasn’t your hero, your mom protected and perceived him to be that. The truth be in the pudding, or the lack of it being dished out. Every fantasy has a chance of crumbling to dust it is our willingness to lower expectations forever keeping our lips pursed in a pout.

For those of us who have walked the line we know the vows that are exchanged. Sickness and health, richer or for poor, the bare basics of a loving relationship laid out for all to witness and adore. Our wedding was intimate with only family and friends. My dad passed on the opportunity as his two small dogs could not be left alone. Trust me when I say this but this was the first indication that maybe just maybe we don’t get the happy ending that we expect and assume. In every daydream fantasy it was my dad who would give me away. We would dance together in one last trance were father and daughter are no longer one as he gives over my hand to my partner and mate. Me and my older sister were on the outs as was the usual between two at odds sister. I never tried to walk a mile in her shoes until I was forced to walk the same road on my own. No matter the age it still hurts when your Dad turns your back on you and that happened to my sister twice. I see now how as children how similar we both truly are. I used to think it was enough that our Dad adopted her but I can now understand how much more it hurts coming from someone who shares the same genes.

The weight of my sorrow when it comes to my marriage boils down to a man who can’t even say the truth. Everything is a stretch of the imagination when I listen to him, grating my nerves till they are irritated and raw. I don’t mean to lose my composure early but what man buys his glorified housewife a Milwaukee tool. Not just any tool the M15 Ultra telling me it’s a replacement for my Dyson, I almost threw it at his head. For absolute clarification he is a Milwaukee tool hoarder who aspires to collect them all. All I could think as he excitedly “vaccuumed” the stairs with his new toy was I should have bought that damn dress I wanted, next time I will. Man was I ever annoyed. And as in every pea sized male brain before him he still does not see the error of his ways. It’s like giving a lady a Kitchen Aide who likes to bake or giving a tomboy some crazy errotic lingerie. You should know your audience. You should especially know the habits of your wife.

In an era of gender fluidity I am guilty of buying into our gender roles. I want to dress and feel like a lady engaging in womanly tasks around the house as the husband builds and repairs the out. For those of us who have walked the line we know the vows that are exchanged. Sickness and health, richer or for poor, the bare basics of a loving relationship laid out for all to witness and adore. out the trash, pick up dog shit cuz its your 200 pound fertilizing my lawn, fix my vaccuum and any other Dad related tasks. I humbly ask for help knowing full well I can do it all myself and already knowing what it is he is going to say. His excuses are the same. I just laid down, worked all day, I just need 15 minutes to myself or my favourite of all I need to take a 45 minute shit.

At times like this I remember why I tried to stay single. Nobody ever told me it would feel like this. It’s confusing to think it has gone on so long. Or the way he tells me he loves me like it was a part of the song. To me I love differently I do all that I can to try and make them happy. I cook their favourite dishes and hang their clothes just so. I am open to common critism as long as it opens a door to loving you more. To be resisted and shunned in every possible way is not how I imagined married life to be. I am fighting against this spiral of losing my sexuality as I try to fight back with flaire. My heart is constantly reminded of times when those I loved once captured my heart and promised to never let go. Where did they go? Will they ever come back for me? Will I ever be with them again?

In a sea of lies that always turns the tides of faith against me I feel lost and confused on the course that I find myself on. I know it makes sense I can tell by those around me. My son smiles more than he cries and there is so much love and laughter in his eyes he is my forever heaven sent. Even my angry grey cat that was long ago abandoned when I adopted him is now happily curled apon my lap. Sure the marriage might not be all that it was supposed to be but my crazy family seems to be intact. Isn’t that what is most important or should I be chasing being loved unabashedly back? I guess I shouldn’t complain too much as he only lies when he is awake. And when it comes to spending time with us you can always find him safe asleep. Laughing about my vintage values and gender roles like it is me who should be ashamed.