My Special Person

When I was a little girl, I loved playing house and pretending I was coming home from work to cook dinner for my husband and kids.  I would go through a lot of "imaginary husbands," sometimes 3 or 4 a week.  They were usually based on soap opera character names I'd heard at my babysitter's house or little boys I knew.

You could say that I've always felt "called" to be a wife and a mother. 

It's not because anyone told me that I had to be someone's wife, or that I grew up thinking single people weren't just as awesome and happy, but.... I admired my parents' marriage.  I wanted what they had.  They laughed together.  They seemed stronger together than apart.  They were best friends, and had been for such a long time. 

As a young kid, I didn't always see the struggles that made them strong or the tears that came before their laughter. 

All I could really see was love. 

When I would talk to my mom about getting married someday, she always said, "It will take a special person to love you forever."  As I grew older, especially into my teenage years, this statement started to bother me.

Why did it have to be a special person?

Wasn't I loveable enough for any guy?

How special did this person need to be? 

Wasn't I good enough to be somebody's wife?

I see now more than ever, though, that she's exactly right.

It hit me when I moved into my 2 bedroom apartment last week, and all of my boxes and belongings were strewn in the front two rooms.

I needed help.  Lots of help. 

I wanted to just pick up a box and move it to the correct room, but I couldn't.  I have an awesome brain, but I needed some brawn.  I not only needed someone to help because he felt he had to, but more than that, because he wanted to. 

The thing is, it takes a special person for everyone.  A person who is ready to love us for who we are, flaws and all... and not just for our flaws, but for the things about us that can't be changed, whether good or bad.

We all have boxes to move and bags to carry, but the trick is in finding the right set of arms, willing to pick up the box for you when it becomes too heavy.

I need someone who not only sees me for me and loves me for me, but who thinks that I am enough for him--who wakes up most days thinking that he is lucky I'm around.

That person, whomever he is, is already incredibly special, and I hope I find him.