When I first launched my blog back in January, I made an agreement with my husband. He knew I was writing but he wouldn’t try to find my blog or read any posts until I told him I was ready. I had always planned to talk to him about everything right before I decided to go public. He fully supported this. He wasn’t concerned. He didn’t ask questions. My close friends and sister? Not so much.
If you know me, you know that there is no bullshit. No sugar-coating. Just open, honest truth. I’m not afraid to share, tell you how I feel, and I own my shit and who I am. I always planned to bring this to my blog. As I started writing my truth about motherhood, marriage, and sex, in came the frantic text messages and phone calls from various friends and family members.
Does my husband know what I’m writing about? Does he know how I feel about our sex life? Do I talk to him about what I write for the world to read? Jen, are you okay? Jen, are you going to do something impulsive like have an affair or run away? Jen, should we be concerned? Jen, do we need to come down to the South for an intervention?
This is what I love about my friends and sister . They are real. They call me out on my stuff and they make me talk to them even if I don’t want to hear what they have to say because they are probably right. I’ve said it before—real friends talk shit to your face and say the good stuff behind your back.
And to answer those questions, no, my husband didn’t know what I was writing about, not at first. I am okay—great in fact, which I attribute to having this space to write my truth and express who I am with no apologies. And I’m not going to have an affair or run away. I love my husband and our life even if I’m not in love with where we live.
But the fact still remained, I needed to come clean to my husband about the name of my blog, the meaning behind it, and that there were and would be posts that discussed private aspects of our relationship and lives. And after almost two months of writing, I did talk to him and it was a relief.
The fact is, writing about all of this helps me, which in turn helps our relationship because I can make sense of my feelings in writing before I articulate them in conversation. Most times I talk to him about what these posts. Sometimes I don’t. He is allowed to read the blog anytime he wants to. It’s his choice and a decision we are both comfortable with.
And I’m pretty sure it helps others—because I know I’m not the only wife who sometimes wants to throat punch her husband after he does something stupid. I’m not the only wife who has a different definition of foreplay than her husband. And I’m definitely not the only mom who has a love-hate relationship with being a mom or misses her life before children. I just have the balls to say it. And I’m saying it because I want you to know you are perfectly normal and not alone.
Marriage is hard work. It’s not always perfect and needs to be nurtured and cared for. There will be dry spells, some days you’ll want rip your husband’s pants off and other days you’ll want to punch him in the face. If you tell me you are madly in love with your spouse all day every day and life is always perfect, well then I’m just going to say it—you are lying and full of shit. The same goes for motherhood. And it’s okay!
I know my husband get this. He supports me and believes in my writing and I love him for it. I’m sure the lack of privacy makes him slightly uncomfortable, but I know he is looking the other way on it for me—because he sees what writing has done for my mind, body, and spirit. Writing is helping me forge my identity, which I have been so desperately in search of. And most importantly, he supports my desire to honestly put myself and my shit out there to help others who might not have the courage to, even if it’s at the expense of a little bit of privacy.
I did not start this blog to bash my husband. Will he annoy me and piss me off sometimes? Of course. Will I write about it? Hell yeah! But while I might complain about the dumb shit he does as a man, he is still an incredible husband and father. It’s important for me to make that distinction here. We might need to spice up our sex life, but I know my husband would lay the world at my feet if he could.
I love and appreciate my husband, the man who had no issues with me leaving him for five days to go back to sleepaway camp. The man who wanted to discuss me signing up for camp, but didn’t get angry or upset when I informed him there would be no discussion—the credit card was charged and flights were booked! The man who already knew without me telling him that I would be going back to Campowerment this September and probably every time after that.
The man who when I texted from camp to tell him that I won color war and my apache relay activity was bug juice flip cup, he responded by saying, “I expect no less.” The man who put me up in a luxury hotel after camp so I could reflect and decompress and unpack all my emotions before returning to reality as a mom and wife. The man who I know will do whatever he can to help me be me, the person I revealed myself to be this past weekend at camp. The man who loves our son, cared for him and held down the fort while I was away. The man I can’t wait to share with all I learned, and did, and became while I away at camp.
So husband, I can’t say thank you enough—for your love and support and belief in me. And for letting me do what I need to do to be my best self—as they called me at camp—a ROCKSTAR!
And just as an added bonus, there will be a large box of goodies from Freda’s Campowerment Passion Party waiting for you when you get home from your business trip. As for what’s inside? I will leave that to all of your imaginations. And if you’re really lucky, maybe there will be a toy review on the blog in the near future. I’ll need some liquid courage before I post that one!
Make sure you check back in the next couple of days for my upcoming post about the magic that is Campowerment and why you should run, not walk to this incredible, life-changing place.