I always thought I was brave. Until I met my wife.
She was married when we met. To a man. They had been married for twenty years. It was a stable marriage. They had three kids together. They truly loved each other, and provided a loving and trusting home for their children. It was the type of life that no woman would dream of leaving.
Except she did.
We met nine years ago. Our friendship developed instantly. The connection was deep and the respect was mutual. I had been in multiple relationships with women since my early twenties. Dating a woman was never even on her radar. The attraction between us crept up subtly, without each of us realizing it was there. Although perhaps we both did. I had not had a true friend in longer than I could remember, so I equated our sometimes-flirtatious encounters as just something that close friends did. We passed innocent notes back and forth, joking about dating and getting married someday. Never dreaming that those notes were the beginning of an incredible journey.
A journey that never would have become a reality if not for her bravery. She left a marriage that was all she had ever known. A marriage that, although not providing the type of happiness that a relationship should, was still a loving one. Leaving a marriage such as this one for a new relationship, a relationship between two women nonetheless, is a decision I cannot even begin to imagine making. Yes, the financial implications, logistics and divorce proceedings would be difficult. However, the relationship with her kids was where her real bravery shone through. Her children were the most important thing in her life. Their relationship was open, honest, trusting and real. The fear of losing them, either due to divorce or a same-sex relationship, was intense and all-consuming. Yet she continued to move forward with our relationship, believing in the strength and connection that we continued to grow every day. She had raised her kids to be open-minded, inquisitive and honest with her, qualities that resulted in them not only accepting our relationship, but also loving me and treating me as if I were their own family.
Her bravery did not stop there. In the coming year, she would be let go from the job she had been at for twenty-five years, sell the house her kids had grown up in, receive a terrifying medical diagnosis, and suddenly lose her ten -ear old family dog. Since then, she has gone back to school and received her bachelor’s degree in Nursing. She started a new job, completely different from the one she knew so well, and has flourished in her new role. She found a specialist and stabilized on medication, even while hating the thought of taking pills and being frightened of the potential effects of the disease in the future. She bought a new house in the same town so that her kids could remain in the public school they knew so well, despite there being more affordable housing in neighboring towns. Her new puppy brings joy to this new house every day.
Through all of these life circumstances, her bravery is evident. Her strength is both inspiring and contagious. However, it is the subtler actions she takes on a daily basis that make me appreciate her bravery even more. I am a hiker. I always have been. I climb tall mountains, hike long miles and stay overnight in the backcountry. She prefers shorter walks on smaller mountains, and a warm bed to sleep in. Staying overnight in the woods was something she had never done. Yet she chose to try this, because she wanted to share with me an activity that I loved and had always wanted to share with her. For a number of reasons which I will not identify here, she was uncomfortable, fearful and uncertain about sleeping in a tent in the woods, miles away from the nearest road.
But she did. Because she is brave. And because she loves me.
That is my wife.