The Mention of Marriage


A couple of weeks ago, Seth and I went out to dinner with some mutual friends. After a great evening full of laughter, Seth drove me home, and we sat in his pickup truck for a few minutes winding down the evening.

In the midst of our conversation, Seth reached over to hold my hand and started fiddling with my fingers. He was looking down at our joined hands, but he looked up when he started to speak. “Aurora, we’ve been dating for a while now…”

His voice trailed off, and he laughed, looking uncomfortable. “I’ve talked myself in and out of this conversation so many times…”

“What is it?” I asked, encouraging him along.

He sighed. “Well, we’ve been dating for a while now, and I was thinking… I’d like for us to start having more intentional conversations in the direction of marriage.”

My eyes widened. “Wow.”

“What do you think about that?” He looked nervous.

I paused, gathering my thoughts. “Well… I think it would be good. It would be good for us to continue developing our emotional intimacy.”

I was surprised at my stoicism and internally evaluated why I wasn’t letting myself get more excited. Seth brought up marriage. Seth brought up marriage! I hadn’t expected the topic to come up so soon but was glad that it did. At the same time – having been through what I’ve been through – I felt happy but guarded. I decided that – like a classic intorvert – I needed more time to process my thoughts and feelings before I gave myself over to my emotions.

“Yeah? You think so?” Seth looked hopeful.

“Yeah,” I answered with a smile; then I asked, “What does that look like for you? Having ‘more intentional conversations in the direction of marriage’?” I wanted to make sure we were on the same page and communicating clearly. Marriage is a weighty topic.

Seth suggested that we start to read through some marriage books or even go to pre-marital counseling. “I have a book that’s like ‘101 Questions to Ask Before Marriage’ or something like that. I was thinking we could talk through those questions.”

“Yeah.” I smiled. He’d really put some thought into this. “That sounds really good.” I was starting to feel the excitement now; the sense of Seth’s affection for me starting to culminate in commitment.

Seth had gotten quiet and looked deep in thought. “What are you thinking about?” I asked, looking at him affectionately.

I thought Seth might finally tell me that he loved me. We hadn’t said “I love you” yet, but now that he was starting to talk about marriage, I thought he was finally ready to communicate his feelings.  I expected to hear his deep, resonant bass voice whisper, “I’m thinking about how much I love you.”

But instead what my ears heard was, “I’m worried about hurting you.”

I recoiled, shocked at his words. The sweetness of the moment was broken. “You’re worried about hurting me?”

“Yeah.” Seth winced, seeming to realize belately that maybe he shouldn’t have said those words out loud. Or maybe it’s good that he did.

I took a deep breath, willing myself to respond rationally rather than over-reacting in my surprise and disappointment.

“I’m a little confused,” I told him evenly. “You just told me you want to start intentionally moving in the direction of marriage and then, not even five minutes later, you tell me that you’re worried about hurting me. That doesn’t line up for me. Help me understand.”

Seth backpedaled, explaining that he wasn’t saying he wants to move in the direction of marriage necessarily; he just wants to start having more intentional conversations on marriage-type topics so that he can see how well we align. He’s in a place where he wants to make a decision one way or another – should we get married or break up? – but he doesn’t yet know which direction we should go. He just wanted us to start talking through the more challenging topics that tend to cause issues in marriage.

I understood where he was coming from, but I still felt wounded. I wished he’d been able to clearly communicate at the start of the conversation rather than unintentionally leading me to think he was more ready to commit than was accurate.

I was also hurt because Seth knows I’ve been through a broken engagement. I’ve told him that the topics of marriage and engagement need to be handled delicately with me. I am overly sensitive to wavering commitment and indecision about relationship status. I am of the opinion that questions like “How would you want to discipline your children?” can come up naturally in the course of a date night. Asking what you think the role of a wife is can be discussed on long road trips to the ranch. Part of dating is having those conversations organically. But once you bring up marriage so directly – once you suggest that we do “pre-marital counseling” – you have entered into the realm of alluding to commitment. Saying that you want to start having “intentional conversations in the direction of marriage” means, to me, that your mind is made up and you are starting to look at rings. But, in the case of Seth, I was mistaken and misunderstood his intent.

I believe that a couple doesn’t do pre-marital counseling to decide whether or not they are compatible; they do it to pinpoint potential sources of conflict in their marriage and learn to conflict well. Except my ex-fiance. He used pre-marital counseling to point to all the reasons we wouldn’t be compatible in marriage. He used our counseling to tell me all the reasons he would have an affair if we got married.

Seth and I dialogued about what he said versus what he meant; what I thought and how his words made me feel. I asked him to try not to bring up marriage so directly again until he is actually ready to go ring shopping or drop a knee. It plays with my emotions and toys with my heart. “And please don’t use the ‘M’ word until you’ve used the ‘L’ word.” L comes before M, after all. And I need to know he loves me before I’m ready to let my heart hear him talk about forever.  

I explained further, “We don’t need to be in a rush to make a decision. I know all of your friends are married with kids and that you don’t want to waste my time or your own, but if you rush this decision, the answer will be no. I know. I’ve lived it. We will break up. Ultimately, people shy away from things they’re not ready for. So if you want to give us a chance, slow down and don’t rush this decision just because you’re comparing our timeline to your friends’ relationships.”

I delivered this message in the most loving, gentle, calm manner I could, and Seth fortunately responded well. He apologized profusely. “You’re right. I’m like a bull in a china shop. I want to have respect for your feelings and treat them gently.”

We prayed together, hugged and agreed not to rush this decision. And I’m thankful. Because I would rather wait to marry Seth than not marry him at all.

Authentically Aurora


Perks of Frugality

Seth TextWhen Seth took me to his ranch a few weekends ago with a group of mutual friends, he and I were tasked with grocery shopping for the group, so we threw a couple of ice chests in the back of his truck and went for an honest-to-goodness grocery run in town.

After picking out produce together, Seth sent me off to find some mustard. Eager to get back to him, I scanned the shelves, grabbed a small value brand mustard and hurried back to where he stood by the deli meat. Seth took the mustard from me and started to throw it in our cart, but he did a double-take at the label and cried in dismay, “Organic?! What in the world are you doing buying organic mustard?!”

He marched me back down the condiments aisle, replaced the distasteful container and, two shelves down, picked up an almost identical mustard by the same value brand. “80 cents. That’s more like it. Your fancy organic mustard was $1.20. We just saved 40 cents by not going organic.”

“Wow. I guess you can really treat me on our date next week!” I teased with a nudge.

Having thoroughly learned my lesson, I took extra care with my personal grocery shopping last week. When Seth came over to make stuffed bell peppers together – bringing meat from one of his family’s own bulls – I nodded at the bell peppers I’d purchased for us earlier in the day.

“You may notice that all of our bell peppers are yellow and green,” I said casually. Seth paused chopping the onions to glance over at me, sensing that I was about to say something of note.

I shrugged in mock nonchalance, continuing, “That’s because these were two for a dollar, whereas the red bell peppers were $1.25 each.”

In an instant, Seth was at my side, arms wrapped around my waist and face just inches from mine. “You are so attractive to me right now,” he told me in his low drawl before he lowered his lips to mine, rewarding me for my frugality.

Authentically Aurora

Meeting Fabio (a Throwback Thursday post)

FabioI recently alluded to my run-in with the one and only Fabio Lanzoni.

At the request of Bitter Ben (one of my favorite bloggers of all time), here is the full scoop on that story!

Several months ago, I agreed to meet a friend for dinner at a local crunchy, granola, all organic, no-animals-were-harmed-in-the-making-of-your-food kind of place.

We met for an early dinner, so this hip restaurant was relatively empty as we walked up to the counter to place our orders. At least, it was empty except for this exceptionally tall and broad-shouldered man who was completely blocking the cash register while staring up at the menu behind the cashier, trying to decide what to order.

Internally rolling my eyes at this guy who was so oblivious to the fact that there were people waiting in line behind him, I tapped him on the bicep (he was too tall for me to tap him on the shoulder) and said, “Excuse me. Are you ready to order, or do you mind if we go ahead?”

He turned to look at me, surprised – he had kind eyes – and said warmly, “No, please go ahead.” He gestured with a wave of his arm for us to move ahead of him in line.

So I stepped up to the register, stated my order, and was surprised to see the girl at the register gaping at me. I stared back at her. “What?” I asked.

“That’s Fabio!” she hissed at me under her breath.

I had no idea what she was talking about. You renamed your turkey burger “the Fabio”? That’s weird.

She must have seen my blank expression, because she said again – this time jerking her head in the direction of the broad-shouldered man – “That guy behind you! It’s Fabio!”

Oh. Cool…?

I knew I was supposed to have some kind of a reaction, but I just shrugged, paid, and moved along. All I knew was that Fabio was some guy with long hair who used to pose for the covers of romance novels. Since I don’t read romance novels or fantasize about long-haired men, I was pretty nonplussed.

Soon after my friend and I sat down, women of all ages flocked the tall man, batting their eyelashes and asking for autographs. I looked him up and down, curious. He’s not an unattractive man, but honestly, in person, he almost seemed like a cartoon character. His features are so distinctive and almost disproportionate that he reminded me of a cross between Disney’s Tarzan (facial features/hair) and Kronk (pure bulk).

I hope he appreciated that I treated him like I would have treated anyone else. I imagine it would be nice to feel like a normal person rather than a celebrity to be tip-toed around or used as a prop for Facebook and Instagram bragging rights.

Even if only by one woman and only for one moment, Fabio got to experience a bit of normalcy that afternoon waiting in line at the cafe. And hey, after sitting in a pew with Lyle Lovett harmonizing to church hymns, what’s a run-in with the Icon of Eye Candy?

Authentically Aurora