This summer, I will have been married for 10 years. That isn't a crazy amount of years, but it's definitely respectable. It's about 1,872 times longer than Kim Kardashian's first marriage, so I've got THAT going for me.
We are definitely not perfect. We've got capitalized PROBLEMS. Lots of them. Some days, it's an uphill battle, and it takes everything we can to not throw the "divorce" word around. And we've done it. We've both considered throwing in the towel. But somehow, we haven't. Not even on our worst days.
But I will always choose to stay. Not because of the kids. Not because of our financial entanglements, or because I've already invested so much time.
Don't sit there and think that it's sad or that I have no self-esteem. I know who I am, and who I am is not a pleasant person. I am not easy to live with or be with. I am difficult. I am an uphill battle. And yes, my husband royally fucks up but so do I. His tend to be fewer but bigger and more dramatic, but my fuck-ups are a thousand personal slights that have occurred over the course of a decade. Ten years of being married to a sarcastic, cold, mean, detached person will wear on a man who needs affection and touch to feel loved (me? I just need a cup of coffee. Acts of service, all the way). We have both felt very unloved at times, and I'm resolving to go out of my way to validate his needs, even if I don't understand them. If we're both hurt, we should just scab up together and have matching scars, not push each other way. I'm all in. There is no plan B. Just him. Always him.