On Understanding True Love

What is True Love?

As an author I ask myself this every time I sit down to tell my characters' stories. The answer, at least for them, is pretty straight forward. In a well crafted story, the heroine will be emotionally strong, and the hero will not be an immature ass. They've got to be human enough to make mistakes, and their trip into love can't be without its ups and down.

The hero, or sometimes the heroine, will show their strength in the others' time of need. They'll show compassion and understanding for each other, and a willingness to do whatever it takes to keep the other happy and safe. Even if that means locking them in a basement, cuffed to the water heater. In all cases, there is an equal give and take, because even in fiction, a relationship can't work if it's unbalanced.

In order for characters to be loved by readers they need to have redeeming qualities, and I haven't met many people who would find a hero who cats around on his lady--or drops her like a bad habit, appealing. Even if he does realize the grass wasn't greener and comes back, metaphoric tail between his legs.

If the heroine takes him back, the readers will lose respect for her, and possibly put down the book. That's not True Love, that's romantic suicide.

Reality is much more complicated.

Love is a crazy and fickle thing. It can be amazing or horrible, but usually it falls somewhere in the middle. The Marine and I have been married for seven years, and I'm the first one to admit it hasn't all been perfect--though according to my therapist it's quite healthy and has every chance of thriving. We've had struggles, and we've made mistakes. We're still learning about each other, and trying to grow together rather than apart while we're separated.

Most of all, our love is real, because even when I feel like I'm running into a wall, and he'll never truly understand me, he helps me to be stronger. When I look at my future, he's the only one who is beside me. Since I've met him, he's the only one whose been there.

Of course, if the Marine hadn't had the characteristics of a hero when we met, or I'd felt insecure or like I was only half of a person, rather than a better, stronger, whole person, I never would have married him. No matter how well his dress blues fit him, and no matter how much I loved him.

Regardless if it's a book or real life, love is supposed to make you stronger. It's supposed to build you up, not break you down. It's suppose to heal your soul, and seal up your insecurities, not break you or make you wonder why you're not good enough.

True Love is strength no matter what. True Love means a deeper connection than hormones and great sex. (Don't get me wrong, those are also very important) True Love is knowing no matter what, you'll be supported, cherished and loved. When you find True Love, it won't come easy, but you won't doubt yourself either. You won't be sad all the time, and even when you're mad, you'll feel safer with them than anywhere else. 

Have you experienced True Love? If so, I'd love if you'd share your story.

R.S.

On A Happy Thought

Life isn't always kind and things won't always go our way, but realize that whatever happens will make you stronger. It will lead you where you need to go and open doors you might not have seen otherwise. 

Keep your head up.  

In the words of Gary Allen, "Life ain't always beautiful, but it's a beautiful ride."

R.S.

On Being Strong

Some days I don't feel strong.

I feel weak, like a stiff breeze will knock me over.

This isn't a physical weakness, though compared to the Marine there's no doubt my body is weak in comparison.
It's a mental and emotional weakness, and it surprises me when others don't see it in me. When they think I'm stronger than I see myself.

By no means am I a D.I.D. -- a damsel in distress, but I see myself differently than those who rely on me.

The Marine sees me as strong and capable of running the house, caring for our daughter, getting through college with a high gpa, and making sure our life runs smoothly whether he is home or in some random 'stan country.

The Munchkin sees me as strong because I fix her broken toys, read her stories, make the upset tummy monsters go away, and love her no matter what.

The Niece sees me as strong because I respect her, live my life relatively happily in my skin, and don't fall especially prey to the guilt guns our family often mans with shockingly good aim.

My friends say I'm strong, but really what do they see?

Everyone who knows and loves me believes I'm strong, but what they see is usually just a mask.

Yes, I can survive by myself, provide for myself and my daughter. I'm comfortable alone, and don't need approval.

I make it through months without seeing the Marine, and life continues, but sometimes when the world gets too dark, responsibilities weigh me down, and I'm scraping the bottom of my emotional barrel...

It would be nice if there was someone there to hold out their arms, offer a shoulder, or just say, "It's okay to cry. I won't think you're weak. Sometimes it takes strength to let go."

Because, I seem to keep forgetting that.


R.S.