When She Knew: Taking Off My Rose-Colored Glasses
From the moment I met my husband at church, I knew I liked him. Tall with blue eyes and a great smile, he was handsome in his standard church attire: navy slacks, leather shoes, and a button-up. After years of anticipation, I learned that Luke reciprocated my feelings. “I’ve been thinking about it and really like you. I want to get to know you better. What do you think?”
I was over the moon! I was only nineteen years old, but I was smitten. It felt like he had proposed, and I was ready to say yes. Several of my friends were dating, and it seemed glorious. Free food and a great time—wouldn’t dating be easy and enjoyable? But looking back on our relationship, initially I seemed to have on rose-colored glasses.
As a young teenager, I had two lists of traits I hoped for in a spouse. Non-negotiables on List A included the same religion, similar height, and general moral values. In my mind, he checked off all those boxes. Then I had my List B, with optional but ideal things like a friendly family, a good job, athletic, etc. I knew the perfect man didn’t exist, but maybe one existed for me.
As I wrote out my list, someone challenged me to match it. If I expected someone kind and loving, could the same be said about me? I was impatient and often unkind if things didn’t go my way. Then again, Luke checked off some boxes I didn’t initially write down—things like generosity and structure.
Because I was so young, we agreed to establish a six-week trial period before we committed to being a couple—two official dates per month, with minimal phone calls and texts.
He picked me up from work on our first date but didn’t tell me the plan. I’d changed out of my scrubs and wore skinny jeans and a T-shirt. When I got in the car, I discovered he’d made a playlist for us. Indie music played as we drove through California hills, green from the spring rain. My stomach grumbled. I’d assumed we would get dinner before anything else, since that’s what my family always did. Instead, we started our hike at a Palo Alto city park. We went up the steep hills and shared stories. I was oozing, no, glistening with sweat. Afterward, we finally got dinner at the Cheesecake Factory.
The waiter greeted us with a smile. “How many?”
“Party of two,” Luke replied.
I grinned; I loved hearing those words.
We slid into a booth and took the Myers-Briggs test while waiting for our food. Certainly the results would show someone who was like me in every way, who could read my mind and know when to feed and talk to me, who would know when to be silent or still.
I smiled as I read my results. “Okay, I’m a caregiver and ESFJ: extroverted, sensing, feeling, and judging personality.”
Luke raised his eyebrow and replied, “Hmm, I’m an INTP: introverted, intuitive, thinking, and perceiving.”
We were exact opposites, but didn’t opposites attract? If so, it seemed like we could balance our strengths and weaknesses. Surely the relationship would work, right? But I had my rose-colored glasses on. How would a couple with an introvert and an extrovert spend their free time? After a long day of work, should we hang out with friends or go on a quiet hike? Could we resolve our differences?
We finished the night with dessert. Luke wanted lime, and I wanted mango. The waiter grinned and provided a key-lime mango cheesecake. It was the perfect match. Luke left a generous tip, while I typically gave the bare minimum. Maybe our differences could work.
For our second date, we went downtown to a coffee shop. I sipped my latte as we sat across from each other. I fidgeted and tried to dart around my actual questions about alcohol, money, and the past. But as we grew more comfortable with each other, we worked through these questions and kept sharing. As we dated, we grew more than just a relationship; we grew a friendship.
Looking back on our first six dates, I’m glad we had structure. I’m thankful for the chance to take things slow and be intentional about our time together by asking hard questions. For instance, on later dates, we filled out 101 Questions to Ask Before You Get Engaged. Sure, it could have worked in other ways, but reflecting on our past, present, and future expectations was helpful.
Sometimes, the dating process was painful, but it was worth it. Now, almost five years later, and with a baby, I'm still learning to expect the unexpected. To take off my glasses and work on myself before expecting change in others. Like that first hike, the road is windy, and the hills are steep.
It helps to take off your glasses.
Editor’s note: When She Knew is a way for women to share stories of the simple (or not-so-simple) ways they knew they had met the man they wanted to marry. If you’d like to share your story, review our Readers Write guidelines here.
