When all We Hear are the Wrongs of How Things Appear, Here’s What’s Right
When Greg and I got into a relationship, we were not surprised or blind to the odd looks, the challenges, the assumptions, or the concerns. We expected all of that. Since we’ve been together, I’ve heard a small handful of fears and “what if’s” on loop. I’ve heard the harsh words, the assumptions, the possible dangers, the hypothetical red flags, the “someday you’ll see…” warnings.
It’s almost always the same two or three talking points on repeat, followed by scratching heads that are confused and frustrated. Often this happens when someone can’t see past their own assumptions and image of what the picture perfect relationship looks like that is void of an age gap. Their picture perfect is void of complications and easy on the brain for everyone to understand and accept.
People have spent so much time telling us what might be wrong with us, they’ve completely missed how much is actually right.
I’m not in the business of defending myself anymore or trying to convince anyone who’s already decided what they believe about us. However, I am allowed to know my own life from the inside.
So, this isn’t a defense piece.
This is a celebration piece.
Here’s what’s actually right with our relationship, and why we work so well together. Here’s why I keep choosing him, eyes wide open, every day.
We both love the Lord, and we bring each other closer to God.
This is the foundation. We don’t just vaguely “believe in God.” We actually care about what He thinks of our lives and choices.
We pray together. We talk about what God is teaching us. We ask, “Is this honoring to Him?” We encourage each other when faith feels thin or when shame tries to creep in. We’ve both had seasons of doubt, confusion, and hurt from family and people in the church, but we keep coming back to Jesus.
We don’t worship each other. We worship God together. That matters.
We bring out the best in each other.
Being with Greg doesn’t make me smaller, quieter, or more afraid. It makes me braver. It makes me more honest. It makes me more myself.
And I see the same in him. When we’re together, he’s more open, more soft, more honest about what’s going on inside. We draw out each other’s strengths and call out each other’s goodness.
We’re not perfect, but we’re better people with each other than we were alone.
We choose each other freely.
No one forced us into this. No one arranged this. No one is holding us here with manipulation or obligation.
We both knew what it was to be on our own. We both counted the cost. We both heard all the opinions and warnings. And after all of that, we still chose each other.
We keep choosing each other—on the good days and on the complicated ones. That’s not weakness. That’s commitment.
We tell each other the truth and completely trust each other.
We don’t live on half-truths and avoidance. We tell the truth, even when it’s uncomfortable.
We talk about our fears, our triggers, our reactions, our mess-ups. We admit when we’re wrong. We don’t snoop, spy, or play games. We don’t make each other earn basic trust every day; it’s our starting point.
When one of us says, “This is how I feel,” the other believes them. That kind of trust is rare, and it’s very right.
We care more about growth than being “right.”
We don’t always agree. Sometimes we both feel strongly and see things differently.
What we’re learning to do is ask: “What leads to growth here? What looks like wisdom and love?” That means sometimes one of us has to say, “You’re right, I didn’t see that,” or “I reacted out of fear and I want to do better.”
We would rather grow than “win.” That’s a good sign.
We hear and listen to each other.
There’s a difference between hearing words and actually listening.
With Greg, I don’t feel like I’m talking to a wall. He asks follow-up questions. He remembers details. He circles back later to check on something I said in passing.
I do the same for him. We listen to understand, not just to reply or defend. Being truly heard is one of the biggest “right” things in our relationship.
We always consider each other.
We don’t make big decisions with a “you’ll adjust” attitude.
We think about:
- How plans will affect the other person
- What each of us is carrying that week
- Emotional energy, not just schedules
It’s not about walking on eggshells; it’s about honoring that our lives are woven together now. His heart matters to me. Mine matters to him.
We guard each other’s peace, not just our own.
We both care about mental and emotional health. We notice when the other is anxious, overwhelmed, or shutting down.
We don’t intentionally stir up drama for attention or drag each other into fights that aren’t ours. We help each other say no. We help each other step away from unhealthy conversations. We talk through what’s heavy and look for ways to lighten it together.
We’re not guarding just our own peace—we’re guardians of each other’s.
We serve
We aren’t just “a couple in a bubble.” We serve. We serve each other as well as others. We are a couple that is plugged into where we get fed. I serve in the youth ministry. Greg serves in various ways with the men that he’s in ministry with. We serve together at Celebrate Recovery. If God nudges us to go serve in an area, we are quick to do it if that means as individuals or as a couple.
We can laugh together—even in the hard mess.
If you know us, you know we laugh. A lot.
We make stupid jokes. We laugh at awkward moments. We send ridiculous memes. We find something funny even on days when everything feels heavy.
We don’t erase the hard by laughing—but humor is like oxygen for us. The fact that we can still laugh together, in the middle of everything, is a huge gift.
We can count on each other.
When I say I’ll be there for him, I mean it. When he says he’ll be there for me, he shows up.
We’ve walked through sickness, stress, legal stuff, family drama, exhaustion, and everything in between. The constant has been: “I’m not going anywhere. I’ve got you.”
Reliability might not look flashy, but it’s one of the most beautiful things in this relationship.
We can challenge each other and hold each other accountable.
We don’t just cheerlead each other. We also challenge each other.
We ask hard questions:
- “Is that really how you want to respond?”
- “Is this helping you heal, or hurting you more?”
- “Do you think that belief about yourself is true, or just familiar?”
We don’t use each other’s weaknesses as weapons. We use them as places to bring more honesty, grace, and accountability. That’s not toxic—that’s healthy.
We completely respect each other.
Respect is not optional between us. It’s the baseline.
We don’t name-call. We don’t mock each other’s feelings. We don’t talk down to each other or treat the other like a child or senile old man. 🙂
We can disagree and still talk like adults. We can be upset and still stay within boundaries of respect. That’s a big deal.
Going beyond words we speak, we respect each other on a deeper level. This means that in our interactions with other people, we are respecting the other. It means that there is simply things we wouldn’t consider doing out of respect for the other. This means that we respect the others flaws and strengths and that we trust as well as challenge.
We respect each other’s history and healing.
We both have history. We both have wounds. We both have things we’re still working through.
We don’t pretend those things don’t exist, and we don’t judge each other for them. We talk about them. We hold space for them. We remind each other that God is still working.
We respect the process, not just the end result we wish we were at already.
We KNOW each other.
Not just the surface things. We know the little stuff:
- How the other one takes their coffee
- Which look means “I’m done with this conversation”
- The stories that still make us cry
- The things that make us light up
But it goes deeper than that.
We know how the other shuts down when overwhelmed, what kind of comfort actually helps, and when to sit in silence versus when to gently ask questions. We know the words that soothe and the ones that sting. We know what certain tones, facial expressions, and sighs actually mean.
We know each other’s tell-tale signs: the way his shoulders drop when he’s carrying too much, the way my eyes go distant when I’m about to freeze. We’re learning to notice those signs sooner and say, “Hey, I see you. What do you need?” I know his face is red or his vein on his forehead shows when he is upset, thinking hard, or stressed. He knows I get the deer in the headlights look when I am anxious or overwhelmed.
Being that deeply known and still chosen is a kind of safety I didn’t know I could have.
We actually like each other.
This sounds obvious, but it matters: we don’t just “love” each other in an abstract sense. We like each other.
We enjoy being together. Sitting on the couch, running errands, working on projects, doing absolutely nothing special—we still like it more when we’re with each other.
That’s not infatuation. That’s friendship and partnership.
We are ridiculously attracted to each other.
Yes, I’m going to say it plainly: we are very drawn to each other.
Attraction isn’t the only thing, but it’s not nothing either. We’re engaged. We want to be married. We look forward to sharing that part of life fully within covenant.
Our attraction is not dirty or shameful; it’s part of how God wired us as a couple. We don’t pretend it isn’t there.
We simply fit together.
There’s also a simple, physical “fit” that just feels right.
The way our hands fit when we hold them.
The way we curl up together on the couch to watch a movie.
The way a hug from him settles my whole nervous system.
The way a kiss can calm or ignite or just say “I’m here.”
Our bodies relax with each other. We feel at home in each other’s presence—whether that’s holding hands in the car, cuddling under a blanket, or just leaning on each other after a long day.
We’re comfortable and at ease in the small, everyday touches. We just… fit.
We are a seamless team.
We work well together.
We can divide tasks without drama. We naturally fall into rhythms that fit our strengths. One of us can pick up slack when the other is struggling.
We’re learning how to “hand off the baton” in stressful seasons and how to support each other without keeping score. It’s not perfect, but we are a good team.
We keep growing closer.
With everything we’ve been through, it would be easy to drift apart. Instead, the opposite has happened.
Hard things, when handled honestly, have pulled us closer. Shared processing, late-night talks, prayers, tears, laughter—they’ve woven something strong between us.
We’re not static. We’re not frozen in time. We are actively growing closer.
He has a young heart, and I have an old soul — and it works.
He has a young heart that may never fully “grow up” in the best way—playful, curious, always ready to laugh, try something new, or dive into a game. He still likes video games and fun, light things that keep him laughing.
I have an old soul. I’m reflective, thoughtful, slower to move but deep in how I feel and process. I even like old music, more traditional things, and I lean a little “old-fashioned” in some ways.
On paper, that might sound mismatched. In real life, it just… fits.
He brings lightness where I can be heavy. I bring depth where he might be tempted to gloss over. We tease each other, we balance each other out, and we bring a lot of joy into each other’s lives.
Somehow, this young heart and old soul combination works exactly right for us.
We are building a life together, not just surviving.
We aren’t just reacting to crisis after crisis. We’re building.
We talk about the future in real, practical ways—finances, health, home, community, calling. We’re creating routines, traditions, and plans that reflect who we are and what matters to us.
This isn’t a fling. This is a life we’re intentionally building, brick by brick.
We are safe together.
This is one of the biggest ones for me: I feel safe with him.
Safe to talk. Safe to cry. Safe to be angry. Safe to be silly. Safe to be exhausted. Safe to admit when I’m not okay.
He feels safe with me too. We can share things that would have been used against us in other relationships, and here they are held with care.
We can adjust for each other.
We’re not rigid. We can adapt.
If one of us is struggling mentally, physically, or emotionally, the other is willing to shift plans. We don’t demand the other push past their limits to keep us comfortable.
We can change our timing, our approach, our expectations out of love—not out of fear.
We are safe to have all of our emotions together.
We don’t only show the “pretty” emotions.
We bring:
- Joy
- Anger
- Grief
- Fear
- Frustration
- Hope
We don’t always handle them perfectly on the first try, but we don’t punish each other for feeling. We’re learning to say, “I see you. I’m with you. Let’s walk through this together.”
We realistically consider the future and what that looks like for each other.
We’re not living in denial.
We’ve talked about age, health, time, energy, what later years might look like, what sacrifices might be required. We don’t pretend those things don’t exist, and we don’t shove them under the rug.
We look at the future with open eyes and say, “Given all of this, I still choose you.”
We are so selfless with each other.
We aren’t perfect, but selfishness doesn’t have a part in who we are.
We take turns. We sacrifice sleep, time, plans, and comfort for each other. We try to put the other person first without erasing ourselves.
There’s a mutual selflessness here that feels rare and precious.
We love each other unconditionally.
This doesn’t mean “we tolerate anything and never confront.” It means:
- We don’t threaten to leave every time it’s hard.
- We don’t make love conditional on perfect performance.
- We don’t disappear when the other is at their lowest.
We stay. We repair. We forgive. We keep loving.
We love each other, but we are not blinded by love.
We are not in denial about:
- Our differences
- Our histories
- The complications around us
- The complictions ahead of us
- The cost of choosing each other
We’ve considered all angles. We’ve talked through hard possibilities. We’ve had our eyes open from early on.
We are not ignoring reality. We are choosing each other in full view of it.
We continue to grow as individuals—and we encourage that in each other.
We are not one merged blob of a person.
We have our own:
- Thoughts
- Gifts
- Callings
- Growth areas
We are self-aware. We talk about where we each need to grow. We encourage counseling, spiritual growth, rest, hobbies, friendships.
We want each other to keep becoming who God made us to be—not to shrink down into something smaller for the other’s comfort.
We keep checking in to make sure this is still what the other wants.
We do not assume.
We check in:
- “How are you really feeling about us right now?”
- “Is this still what you want?”
- “Is there anything you’re scared to tell me?”
Those questions take courage, but they keep us honest. Neither of us is trapped. We are both here by choice.
We protect each other.
I don’t mean in a controlling, isolating way. I mean:
- We step in when someone is being cruel or unfair.
- We stand up for each other’s character.
- We are not neutral when the other is being attacked or misrepresented.
- Sometimes, that even means one of us handling a conversation or situation the other isn’t comfortable with, so they don’t have to stand there alone.
We don’t look the other way. We stand shoulder to shoulder.
We have a once-in-a-lifetime kind of love.
Not because it’s perfect. Not because it’s easy. Not because everyone approves.
But because:
- It is real.
- It is honest.
- It is hard-won.
- It is deeply rooted in everything we’ve survived so far and everything we’re still building.
It’s the kind of love that makes all the noise around us worth sorting through.
Is it complicated? Yes. Is it worth it? Absolutely.
Is this relationship without complications?
NO! NOT AT ALL!
Have we considered all angles and kept our eyes open?
Absolutely.
Did I plan on every bit of the insanity that is my life today?
Not even close.
But I see God in every step.
And there is no one else on earth that I would rather do this life with than Greg.
People can keep guessing, assuming, and speculating from the outside if they want to.
From the inside, I know this: There is so much right with our relationship. We’ve considered the angles, costs, and any complications and still completely choose each other. That is our right and our choice. We choose love everyday. Our relationship isn’t for everyone, but it’s ours.