The Truth About Love (A Story About 17 Years With My Wife)

By Chris Palmer, M.A.

Founder, FigureOutYourLife.com

I can’t get the picture of them out of my mind.

My dad was so worried as he tried to help my mom step down off a simple curb. Her 86-year-old body was frail and he knew it. And the thought of her falling — or worse — is something that haunts him.

They’d been together since they were kids in what seems like both forever ago and yesterday all at once. And the end is a cruelty he just can’t face.

It’s like that with love. The real stuff. The kind of love that is all about wanting to make sure the other person is ok.

No one ever fell in love for the flowers.

Or the chocolates.

Or the jewelry.

And not even “love at first sight” is strong enough to last a lifetime by itself.

It’s so much more than that. And we just don’t talk about it.

Movies, pop culture, and a million pop songs tell the story of that overwhelming initial attraction and connection. It’s no wonder we are drawn to putting those kinds of feelings on a pedestal.

But they aren’t enough.

And they don’t last.

And I’m not a pessimist.

I am one of the most realistic and hopeful people you will ever meet. I believe in going after your dreams. And I coach people to do exactly that.

But lies don’t often help people. And lies about love can hurt everyone.

Everyone.

The truth is, all relationships are voluntary. And no marriage certificate or vow before God can make it stick.

In the end it’s up to you.

So what’s the real thing?

It’s about you and another person choosing to share any part of your lives together because you want to.

It’s about you genuinely wanting good things for another person and enduring the crappy baggage and behaviors that all of us carry.

And it’s about wanting to be there through the times that aren’t accompanied by a movie soundtrack.

So somewhere after the flowers and the dinners and the jewelry — after every easy and beautiful thing that makes the start of relationships almost magical — there comes the real stuff. And this is when people stay or go.

And it’s ok. We all have freedom and so many choices.

But if you can ever get past the point where your relationship is no longer a movie, you have an opportunity to experience something even better:

Real love.

The kind of connection that gives you the strength to handle all the icky nasty crap that gets dished out in life.

And the beauty of all of it is that you can find comfort in having someone truly special to share the entirety of life — with all its hideousness and all of its beauty — and grow together as you experience all of it.

No pretentiousness.

No more walking on eggs to preserve the illusion of “perfect” love.

Just the real stuff.

The thing I’ve loved the most with my wife aren’t the pretty things. It was working through the pain of trying so hard to have kids, taking care of family members we loved in their last months, and seeing our kids grow after their first clashes with reality.

Our relationship isn’t about the movie stuff anymore. It’s better because it’s real.

There isn’t a day I have to act like I’m something I’m not. And that means exposing a ton of imperfection.

But it also means exposing the real stuff — the real feelings — that make us feel the most alive.

So it’s good and bad and it’s wonderful and painful. But all of it is worth it because I’d rather feel alive — fully immersed in the real stuff — than be artificially medicated by an illusion.

Real love isn’t an illusion unless you want it that way.

So my mind goes back to my dad helping my mom off the curb.

His fear for her.

His worry.

His care.

All of it is a kind of love worthy of the biggest screens, yet seen by none.

But at least you know. And in many ways, you’ve always known. Real love doesn’t always arrive in a shiny box.

After guiding her safely into their car, he closes her door and drives away. They speak no words. And I have none.

A feeling rises inside me that I can’t explain and it overwhelms me. It’s something like bittersweet and beautiful. My eyes fill up.

And after several minutes, the words come to me:

Love…the kind I wish everyone could know.

So today especially — after being married to my wife for 17 years — I am grateful for the real. I don’t enjoy the pain any more than she does. But pain is part of the deal. And the beauty is profoundly worth it.

And if I’m lucky enough to be walking with her at 86, I hope the picture looks something like my parents and the curb.

Life is full of curbs and pain and bittersweet agonies. It’s the cost of getting to the real stuff.

And in the end, that’s all I’ve ever really wanted. And maybe you too…

If you liked this, please click the 💚 below, share it, and even comment if you feel something. And thank you.

I coach people and write and speak about life in the hopes that my life is useful somehow. And if I could ever help you, please contact me. And of course the first consultation is always free.

Training@FigureOutYourLife.com