I remember many years ago, when I was in 7th or 8th grade, my French teacher, Ms. Gardinère had asked us to write an essay on what type of relationship we would like to be in when we grew up and why. We had the options of marriage, partnership or being single; children or no children. The assignment resonated with me, because at a very young age I had already begun to reflect on the subject, and took the homework very seriously. I took it as an opportunity to dig deep inside and express who I am.
I did my research in dictionaries, encyclopedias and books to learn the definitions given to marriage and relationships by society. I saw a bit of myself in all the various types of relationships, —be it marriage, partnership or being single— but what resonated with me the most was a partnership. I wrote my essay on my belief that two individuals, of their own free will, can choose to be together to build something, whether it be a home, family, an environment, a purpose and future together. It was important to me that —even at that tender age— in a relationship partners are fulfilled individuals with their own achievements, choosing to be together of their own accord, regardless of what society or other people think. A partnership is where two souls define and decide for themselves what their relationship is, and are grounded in their choices so that they have the courage to face those who accept and do not accept their decisions with equal empathy. I had left the choice of having children optional because to me it depends on the foundation that is built within the partnership and making the best choice together when the moment presented itself.
In a relationship partners are fulfilled individuals with their own achievements, choosing to be together.
"I would like to see you after class," said Ms. Gardinère as she handed back the graded essay papers to everyone, but me in the class. I was worried I had gotten in trouble for writing an essay with unconventional views on relationships. In Haitian traditions, a woman's success was measured by her ability to marry and bare many children. What I had written so proudly, now felt like a looming disappointment for being so honest and vulnerable. I valued Ms. Gardinère's opinion because, in many ways, I really respected who she was as a trailblazer. She was a person of great intellect, with an illustrious career as a writer and teacher who broke many barriers as an independent, single woman. I was drawn to that energy of independence, individuality, and equality in her. " I wanted to talk to you about your paper," she explained while we sat in her classroom after school. " I know you look up to me, but this way of living can be really lonely," she continued " you should look into the possibility of considering marriage and having a family it would be easier for you." I couldn't believe what she was telling me, how could she ask me to give up and fit in, when everything inside of me told me this is not who I am? As she concluded, she handed me my graded essay. I kept my head down feeling defeated and tried to muster the courage to face the damage while I reached for my paper. As my eyes scrolled slowly up the front page, there it was, in bold red letters, "A+." I smiled gently; she heard me, she saw me, she understood me. We both stood up and looked at each other in acknowledgment, and I quietly left the classroom.
Today, more than 10 years later, I am married and find myself reflecting on that moment and the words that I had written in that essay. I found the beginning of my first year of marriage to be an extremely difficult experience and journey for me. We went from getting engaged after our first major fight, moving in together soon after to the dismay and some disapproval from his family, the passing of his brother after a long battle with kidney disease to eloping in a civil ceremony in one of our favorite cities. It felt like we were being challenged from day one, from every corner, and all the while trying to find our rhythm as a newlywed couple. Then came the job offer of a lifetime that led him to another city and put us into a long distance relationship. To top it all, I was going through my own personal journey to find meaning to my life; to wake up from a somber sleep and break free from living my life in auto-pilot. I woke up one day, quit my job, sold my car and bought a plane ticket out of Haiti, convinced our marriage wouldn't make it through this new whirlwind. But through the tears, the shouts, the arguments I returned home for my-self, but most importantly to reflect on what marriage means to me.
"Marriage is like having a standing mirror in front of you, teaching you to face all your Light and Darkness all the time. Go deep." I explained.
Oh, how I knew myself so well at such a tender age! Life has taken me on an adventurous journey, where I had to lose my way to find myself again. I was so in tune with my being when I was young, and I am conscious now of how I let myself get distracted as a teenager so I could fit in. The fear of being misunderstood or rejected for being different had taken over my life for many years. Full circle now, being married has been one of my life's biggest challenge and teacher. I was asked recently "what was it like to be married?" by a single friend of mine with her eyes filled with fairy tale dust — marriage still being considered a cornerstone achievement for many women in Haiti and around the world— and I responded "Marriage is like having a standing mirror in front of you, teaching you to face all your Light and Darkness all the time. Go deep." She stared at me in confusion, but my reflection was unapologetic. In my marriage, I am learning every day about myself — the extraordinary, the good, the bad and the ugly— about other people, souls, connecting, being a presence, intention, faith, God, EVERYTHING. I am learning how important it is to know yourself, really know yourself, before and while you are in a relationship. Always staying in tune and connected to what is going on inside of you as you navigate every day, moment, decision and intention. Learning to align and reflect the type of relationship and life you want to lead with what is inside.
One of the experiences I am so grateful for right now is that I am learning to define marriage with my husband, my partner. Seeing our relationship more profoundly than marriage, seeing our relationship as a PARTNERSHIP and spiritual journey. Similarly to what I had written in my essay, my husband and I found ourselves making our own rules, building our foundation in our own terms. We have already unconsciously expressed our intentions to break conventions by getting married in a civil service without telling anyone, just the two of us, a year before our religious wedding ceremony. We wanted to keep that part of our neon as a sacred moment just for us. A year later as we prepare for our religious wedding ceremony, we face again having to make decisions about ourselves and our union: Who am I going into this? What do religion and a religious wedding ceremony mean to me and us? Why and for whom are we doing the ceremony for? Do I recognize myself in my partner? Do we want to take this journey together? Do we recognize each other as individuals? Are we willing to support each other to fulfill our individual purposes?
This journey thus far is challenging, —it challenges your very Being— but it is one of the most beautiful experiences I have ever had to self-discovery. I wouldn't take a second back from the journey that helped me understand the words I had written so many years ago. I appreciate them more and more as they reveal the importance of living in one's Truth. That lesson is eternal and transcending.
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