WifeAdvice.com

More often than not, when I meet one of The Donkey’s friends or coworkers for the first time, I hear something like:

• “Oh, so you’re the lucky one.”
• “At last–we get to meet the lady crazy enough to marry this guy!”
• “How do you put up with him?”
• “Has he always been so crazy?”
• “You must be a saint.”

In fact, I am quite lucky to be married to this guy. I’m lucky to have found a great partner, father, provider, confidant, and more.

But what about the donkey-ish behavior? His stories are all true: my less-than-perfect-ten rating; the comments about my size (relative to a pipsqueak, remember); his seeming inability to express love; and yes–he even steals my money (and then tells me about it). How ever do I put up with it, and why would I let him publish it to the world? Because it doesn’t bother me.

At least, it doesn’t bother me that much. Being married to The Donkey has taught me a valuable lesson–one that I would not trade for flowers, praise, a slimmer figure, or even to get all my spare change back. [Note to Donkey: I didn't say I don't want any of those things, merely that I wouldn't trade them for this particular lesson.]

The lesson is this: I am responsible for how I feel about myself. Only I can decide what I think about my looks, my life, and my value, regardless of how anyone else treats me–including my husband. When we first dated and got married, it was such a huge confidence boost to know that someone had chosen me, that he wanted to be with me forever. As time passes, though, we go through our ups and downs; misunderstandings and mistakes are inevitable; our lives get busy with school and work and those little people that need to be fed and clothed; we get used to each other; we forget about what life was like without each other.

And what about that boost of confidence that I felt as a new bride? If it remains rooted only in how I am treated by my husband, then it is subject to ups and downs, based on his moods his abilities, and his mistakes. That doesn’t work for me. Instead, I have had to develop my own sense of self worth, based on my feelings about who I am and what I am worth.

That’s not to say that I have no interest in what my husband thinks. He’ll still probably catch me asking why he loves me. I may even occasionally sigh about how I wish I were a better mother, hoping that he will tell me how great I really am. And for those times when his answers aren’t quite what I was looking for, I will just be forced to find my own answers about who I am and how I feel. Lucky for me, I have a lot of practice at that.