Moving in with Mr. Fox

Let’s just get this out of the way right away. No beating around the bush here. I’ll just come right out with it, ready?

Relationships are hard af. Specifically romantic relationships, and especially when you live with that person.

I love the man I am with. He is ingenuitive, charismatic, loyal, caring, funny, and I am so damn attracted to him. He’s also persistent, doesn’t take any shit, and a true defender for the people he loves. As if that weren’t enough he has this son that is sweet as pie, and honest (probably) to a fault. That kids’ face couldn’t tell a lie if it tried.

In the three (plus) years that I’ve known him, I have seen him grow into a (more) mature, selfless, confident man than the one that met me for the first time at a Starbucks (he was fifteen minutes late). We walked through a park that evening, and I knew this man would be a really significant part of my life. We fell in-love fast and both having strong personalities our egos got in the way for a while. So we parted ways and both dated other people- eventually reuniting. It was inevitable. And it feels right; it feels good. I’m happy, and my kids are happy. He’s committed to not just me- but them too. 

What more can I ask for?

A lot. (Like for starters can he not chew so loud?!?)

Before moving in with him, it was about 9 years since I lived with a man. That’s 9 years of not sharing the bed or covers, or bathroom, or decision making with another human. That’s 9 years of my life being uninterrupted by someone else’s habits. That’s 9 long years of bailing when things get complicated or burdensome.

For a long time I thought I’d just live out my life like that; dating people until it stopped being fun and thrilling, and then moving on. Then there were times when the loneliness crept in, and I felt like sharing your life with someone was surely better than going at it alone, or in relationships with people that I wasn’t really invested in, or weren’t really invested in me.

So when he came back around initially I knew I wanted him back in my life. At first I wasn’t sure to what extent until I started asking questions like; do I want to wake up without this man, and do I want to share my life with this man? Was I willing to give up my freedom?

The truth is he fit; he fit right into our lives, and schedules. Dinner conversations were enhanced by his fun loving spirit, and jokes. I started to really want to build things with him; real life things. And I still do. I’m excited about our future.

But here’s the thing. It’s hard. Some days I don’t want to be bothered by putting effort in. Some days it pisses me off when he runs the shower for ten minutes before he gets in. I get annoyed that he won’t take ibuprofen when his back is sore. I get frustrated that he gets frustrated with me- as if I can’t do anything that would warrant another human’s annoyance with me.

I spent a large part of my life believing that marriage, although right for some- was just not suited for me. But I’m starting to see why people do it. I also think it’s very telling that when we talk about it (marriage) my kids laugh and talk about how they cannot picture me getting married especially with the white dress and all the fireworks. Quite frankly me either. I can forgo traditions, and I'm not religious so making a big fuss feels unnecessary. But I love weddings- don't stop sending me invites to yours. 

This isn’t about marriage though and if we will or won't marry. This is about the day to day grind of living with someone who has different habits, ideas, and ways of doing things than you do, and then adjusting your expectations, controlling behavior, and level of asshole-ness so that they don’t duct-tape you to a wall.

Living with him has not been all fun and games. It’s a lot of planning and coordinating and being "too tired." It’s me asking him to fix shit, and him asking me if he has clean work clothes. Gender specific roles are alive and well in this house folks.

But despite that. Despite the hard nitty gritty, irritating, eye-rolling, sighing hard work that living with him is- it’s worth it. We fit. Our ambitions are in sync. Our personalities mesh well. He understands my sense of humor and sarcasm, and knows I mean no harm. I understand his wit and charm and I know he’s genuine.

I could go on and on, talking about the highs and lows of shacking up. But I’ll close with this- he is worth it. What he and I have managed to put together in a few weeks really speaks to what our future looks like going forward. And what it looks like is this: it looks like navigating a new land with no map, buying supplies along the way- arguing about which supplies we'll need for survival, and then having a good laugh when the majority vote is in- and that I'm wrong once again! 

Anyway I’m not sure we get to choose who we fall in love with- but damn I am lucky I got to fall in-love with him.

Happy Monday & Much Love, 

Stephanie Ann