I adore those early days of romance that make up novels. The “meet-cute,” which in real life is sometimes not so cute, the getting-to-know you phase where each meeting is breathlessly fraught with anticipation and longing, and finally the glorious moment when the couple decides that it’s True Love, and they will live happily ever after. In books, that’s usually where the story ends. Because, really, before the “I do” is romance. After the “I do” is women’s fiction.
I’m firmly in the women’s fiction point of my life right now. After fifteen years of marriage, several moves, two children, and many trials, my husband and I have gone firmly beyond the butterflies-in-the-tummy phase. There are very few foot-popping kisses when he walks through the door at night. Half the time, I’m embroiled in homework or bath time and he’s exhausted after having worked a thirteen hour day. We’re lucky if we manage a “Hey there” before the kids are in bed. Romantic, huh?
But the romance of this stage of our life is not in the private dinners or the romantic greetings or the thoughtful gifts. It’s in the meeting of each others’ needs in the messiness of life. It’s the nights where I’m already so tired I could cry and I still have hours of work ahead—and he disappears with our younger son, only to reappear with him bathed and ready for bed. Or the mornings where I bring him coffee at the office so we can have for a five minute chat and a quick kiss good-morning. And in those rare moments when we can sit across from each other at a restaurant table without kids, I think, “Wow. After fifteen years of marriage, this person is even more amazing than I remembered.”
So I love writing those early stages of love when everything is exciting and new, but in my own life, I’m exceedingly grateful for the romance of the everyday. The messiness and chaos of a shared life together. The in-sickness-and-in-health, til-death-do-us-part bits.
Because to me, the first promise of love that endures to the commitment of forever is the meaning of true romance.
Carla Laureano is the author of the RITA® Award winning romance Five Days in Skye, as well as the young adult fantasy series The Song of Seare (as C.E. Laureano). She's an avid cook, an enthusiastic but untalented singer, and a thwarted world-traveler. She currently lives in Denver with her patient husband and two rambunctious sons.
Great post, Carla! After being married 26 years, I hear you. I love your line about meeting one another’s needs in the “messiness of life.” Isn’t that the truth? My husband and I are at that stage in our marriage now where we’re not quite empty nesters, but we’re finding we have more alone time. It’s an adjustment, too, but it’s a good one. I love how Jim brews and brings me fresh coffee each morning. This morning he stopped me, pulled me into his arms, hugged me and kissed the top of my head. THAT was very special for my heart. It’s simply a “different” kind of romantic love. But I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Blessings, my friend. :)
Thanks, JoAnn. Every stage is a little different, and I can’t say I don’t miss the alone time before we had kids, but it’s nice to be able to look at the person beside you and know that you’re in it together for life. Maybe romance is based on uncertainty, but true love is definitely based on commitment. :)
Yes! New discovery is always fun, but it’s the things that show you’re *known* and loved that really do it for me!
Carla, thanks for sharing the picture of your current stage of romance. It’s fun to see what I have to look forward to. :)
Blessings,
Andrea
Great post Carla. So true about all the little things we do for each other becoming so important. Funnily enough, I find it romantic when my husband washes my car or helps me in the kitchen on occasion. Why? Because acts of service is his love language and despite working twelve hours a day he’ll always find something little to do for me. Yes, it’s true there is more time together now our three kids are all grown – we haven’t forgotten the busy-ness of those years, but goodness me, they make time fly. We’ll celebrate our thirtieth wedding anniversary later this year and I have to say it just gets better – but we’ve worked very hard to make sure it has. Love your definition of true romance. It’s always in the little things.
So true, Laurie!
We’re definitely proof that romance doesn’t die, it just changes a little. Or a lot. It’s a good thing! :)
Congrats on the 30th, Andrea! That’s an accomplishment. Seeing your husband be an awesome father is one of the best things about this stage of life. But I won’t lie– I am looking forward to someday being able to travel again like we did before kids!