Behind My Bedroom DoorLori Garcia
As a parenting blogger I feel completely at ease sharing embarrassing information about my kids. They’re part of me – half of me in fact – and somewhere in my head that gives me authorization to share their stories (and save for future therapy sessions).
When it comes to my marriage, I’m far more hesitant. As a wife to a private man, sharing honest and intimate details about my marriage is tricky. There were times I said too much, but if you’re going to get to know the woman behind the beat, I owe you all the love and sex honesty I can muster – so here we go.
I never really dated. I met a boy in high school who loved drugs and his screwing his underage ex-girlfriend more than me. He treated me really bad and told me I was too smart for my own good. It didn’t last long. After a million tears, a couple of failed attempts to make him jealous, and a few dozen drive-by’s his house, it was over.
At 17, I met my future husband. Our first conversation was about Collective Soul, if that doesn’t age me, I don’t know what does. If you like abridged love stories with pictures of scrunchies and Doc Martens you can read our story here.
We married at 22. My parents weren’t thrilled. I did my own hair for my wedding – a decision I regret to this day. We were young, stupid, and broke, but none of that mattered; I loved the shit out of him.
Marriage was harder and better and worse and more fun than anything we could have ever imagined. We took jobs, went back to school, got pets, bought cars, fought hard, loved harder, got pregnant, had babies, moved, suffered from depression, miscarried, got promoted, quit jobs, and all the other good and bad that happens in 13 years of marriage.
We’ve shouted “Divorce!”, whispered quiet I can’t do this anymore’s, and somehow managed to find our way back to each other and the hugs that feel like nothing less than home. To this day we fight about time, sex, blogging, and who does more. We’re still learning, still trying, and thankfully, still loving. Yep, I still love the shit out of him.
So that’s us. We rarely celebrate an anniversary. We have a shitty mattress. I pay the bills. He washes the cars. We fight over home improvement projects. He wants a bulldog. We’re debating baby #3. He’s aging better. I outweigh him by 7 lbs. He shaves his legs. We recycle and don’t attend church.
We’re your regular married couple next door – who, if you keep your windows open, will hear us arguing (likely about all the sex we’re not having). We’re friendly neighbors who’d love to invite you over for burgers and beer while our kids argue about sharing. Consider this your personal invitation into my home, or at the very least, my blog here on Strollerderby.
So listen, I’m up for sharing more personal stuff if you’re up for letting me know what topics you really want to read about on Love & Sex! Leave a comment, say your peace, and please, don’t be shy.
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