A Letter To My Future Husband

Dear Future Husband,

They say no experience is a bad experience if you learn from it and vow never to repeat the same mistakes. I got married in May 2004, was separated in January 2006 and finally divorced in May 2010 and since my very first boyfriend in 1998, I’ve had a lot of experience. *take that how you want* Those experiences have caused me to laugh, cry, throw shit, and wonder if I could handle a life sentence…sometimes all at the same time. I’ve met men that I thought I loved, a few (one) that I wanted (want) to spend the rest of my life with, and some I refuse to admit ever existed…nigga, who are you. But over the past 13 years, I’ve learned enough from those relationships to make some vows. There are things I will never, ever do. I promise.

I promise to never go through your personal property to seek answers to questions that I should be asking you. Seek and you shall find. Ask and you shall get something accomplished. I’m not naïve believing that you will never lie to me, but I do believe that trust is a two way street and once someone starts snooping through cell phones and pockets, trust is gone. If you’re cheating, you’ll be found out because baby, I’m smarter than you. You will never put one over on me. You see, I’ve been single for quite some time for a reason: I just haven’t met anyone I trust with my heart…yet. I haven’t opened up completely to anyone in a while, and before I make a commitment to you, you should know that full disclosure is a requirement on both of our parts. One thing I can not stand is a liar, and if I get the impression that you’re not being trustworthy, I won’t go through your shit to get the truth. I will ask you, like an adult, and fully expect you to tell me the truth, no matter how hard it may be. The truth may hurt me, but I swear your lies will hurt you more. I will cut your dick off if you lie to me…mutha fucka.

I promise to give you your space, because I will for damn sure need mine. Since we’re a couple, chances are, I’ve told you how much I hate that McDonald’s commercial when the dude punks out and agrees that Sundays isn’t for football. I don’t want you in my face all the damn time and I know you don’t want me in yours. I’m okay with knowing that there will be times when you’re sick of me so long as you understand that I left the house before you woke up because I was tired of hearing your loud ass snoring. One thing people fail to realize is that if they spend every waking moment together, togetherness isn’t that important. It becomes mundane, routine, and downright annoying. Sometimes, I want you to help me pick out my new shoes. Most of the time, however, I don’t want you near me and my sales associate. When I need your presence, you’ll know because you’ll need mine, too. Don’t worry, I’m not one of those call you when I need and that’s it types. But if we’re planning on spending the rest of our lives together, I’ll be damned if we drive each other crazy in the first five years because we’re sniffing each other’s butts all the damn time.

I promise I will be mad at you and sorry won’t fix it. Neither will flowers or jewelry…although shoes might do the trick… Unfortunately, no one is perfect. You’re not, I’m not, our relationship won’t be either. You’re going to fuck up. You’re probably going to fuck up bad. I’ll eventually forgive you, because that’s what Jesus, Jigga, and Jennifer would do, but pretending we won’t have problems is insane. Expecting perfection is the worst expectation to have because it’s impossible and I don’t deal in impossibilites. Marriage isn’t about how perfect we are together; it’s about how we deal with the difficulties that we face. I’ve been married before and there was nothing perfect about it. It wasn’t imperfect either, though. Inability to resolve the problem is what ended my marriage because not all problems can be solved. If our marriage is worth it to you, because it definitely is to me, you’ll be willing to do whatever it takes to make things right again, and buying me shit won’t always work. Please don’t insult me with flowers when you continue to stay out until 4am with your boys every weekend after I’ve asked you to knock that shit off. I won’t insult you by giving you head to make up for the money I can’t seem to stop spending…although I’m sure you won’t turn it down… Our problems won’t go away with band-aids. We WILL have problems. We WILL make it work….because I swear I’m not doing this shit a third time.

Future Husband, being with me ain’t gone be easy… I’m not an easy person but I promise I’ll be the best wife I can possibly be because I swear to sweet baby Jesus, I’m not getting married again. You’re stuck with me and I’m stuck with you. Luckily, I’m a reflective little something and I try to grow from every experience, good and bad. I’ll try to make our marriage as painless as humanly possible but if I don’t, just remember that I love you and I tried to warn you.



P.S. I wrote your mom a letter a few months ago. Can you give it to her for me please? Thanks!


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