The Man She Believed Into Being
Lakeside reflections one year into marriage
They say the lake reflects whatever stands above it—clouds, light, shadows. But this year, it’s reflecting me: a man reshaped by discomfort, devotion, and the unflinching belief of one remarkable woman. One year married.
Two and a half years since she entered into a relationship where emotional chaos felt like home. But she must’ve seen something more in me—she held the vision steady when I couldn’t.
It’s hard to admit how tightly shame and temptation once held me. That hunger—sometimes for food, sometimes for escapism, sometimes for the numbing silence of addictions I will not speak— it all felt too strong, too loud. I ran from discomfort like it was fire. But I’m learning now… sometimes discomfort is the forge.
And she stayed. Through the flickering, the tremors, the silence. She didn’t just endure me—she chose me. Escalated the commitment. Married me mid-storm. What kind of love does that?
Maybe the kind that sees potential even when it’s buried under rubble.
.
The lake is calm today, and so am I. Not because the chaos never returns, but because I’m learning to ride it. Coffee without creamer. Fasting through the 16th hour. Scent cues to ground me. Treadmill mornings and scripture to pull me closer to my God. None of it is flashy—but all of it is saving me. And none of it would’ve lasted without her.
This isn’t just a celebration of one year. It’s a recognition of the lighthouse she held. And the man who finally started swimming toward it. The man who was drowning in the midst of turbulent seas, being pulled under into the chaos.
The man who realized, this storm? I could choose to make it go away with daily decisions that did take discomfort. But once I saw the changes happening in real time, I learned to love the discomfort. Because that is where a real change happens. After a life forged in pain, slowly crafted into his strength, thank you for the best one year of that life, honey. I know we will have many more.