Recently, quite a few people asked me about my ‘life before I became a mum’. And one of the questions I am asked a lot is how I met my husband.
I warn you. This is not a ‘awww-so-sweet-it-was-love-at-first-sight-story’. When I met Fabio – at work – a bit over 12 years ago, I had just been cheated on. And I had just ended the relationship with what I thought back then was the man of my life. A new relationship was very honestly the last thing on my mind. I had serious doubts if I would ever be able to trust anybody again.
When we met, we were just colleagues. Then colleagues who drink coffee together. Then some kind of friends. The reason why I even accepted to spend time with him was because there, for once, was no dramatic love story in sight. While all of my previous relationships had been very Hollywood-like, like a glass of rich red wine that got diluted, lost their aroma over time, the relationship with Fabio started as a refreshing glass of water. That slowly turned into wine. Never too strong to give you a headache. But full of subtle aroma notes. That you discover one after the other.
Fabio is what might be the only constant in a life full of variables. Our relationship is the home for our children. That don’t consider any country to be “home”.
I don’t write a lot about love. Cause, until today, I find it hard to put it into words. While we are taught that love has to be about big emotions. About ups and downs. Big smiles. And butterflies. I more and more think that love is about hard work. About reevaluating every day where you stand. Both of you. And about walking into the same direction. Supporting each other. Lifting each other up. While following your own dream. Building your own life.
I find it hard to put in words what love is. But if I had to draw a picture it would probably be the basement of a house. On which our children can build. A place where they can always return to. That gives them stability. Security. Warmth when they are feeling cold.
I didn’t actually say much about how we met. But maybe it doesn’t really matter. It wasn’t that spectacular after all. What is spectacular might be the fact that we are still together today. In a time when everything is thrown away and replaced as soon as it shows minor defects. We are still standing.
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“But if I had to draw a picture it would probably be the basement of a house. On which our children can build. A place where they can always return to. That gives them stability. Security. Warmth when they are feeling cold.” – So eloquently put! Thank you for some clarity on a rather fuzzy topic.
Aww, thank you, Jessi. Sometimes, I am wondering if people are still reading blog posts… So, thank you for reading – and commenting xx
Thank you so much for your kind words, Tyba! Can’t tell you how much they mean. And sorry for the late reply (this week was a bit manic…). Please come and say hi next time you see me
Lots of love xx