“I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. I will love you and honor you all the days of my life.”
My hands were trembling as they reached for the notecard in my breast pocket. I had, of course, rehearsed these lines in all three languages — Chinese, English, and Spanish — many times before the wedding. Yet an avalanche of emotions flooded my throat. I didn’t expect to be overwhelmed.
I paused for a second, took a deep breath, and steadied myself before uttering another word. Breaking down was not part of the plan. I wasn’t conscious of getting choked up in front of our one hundred guests — for the first time in my public speaking career, the crowd didn’t matter at all. Rather, it was important for me to pronounce the most momentous vow of my life with utmost clarity and conviction.
Four years later, it is now obvious to me that, while I understood the literal meaning of every word in my vow, I didn’t have a firm grasp of what it really means. Even today, do I know whether I have the strength to weather the “bad times” with another person? What does it mean “to love and honor someone all the days of my life”? Can I truly live up to this vow?
The biggest lesson I have learned from four years of marriage is the importance of acceptance. When I look back at the last few years of my marital relationship, one pattern is clear: the darkest, most doubtful times come in the moments when I wish things were different.
As another person becomes an integral part of our life, we have expectations. How can we not? We aspire both individuals in the union to grow. It’s only natural to desire the other person to be more loving, more driven, and more understanding.
“More,” however, can be dangerous. It implies a sense of lack, which can spiral into unrealistic desires for the other person to be different in endless ways. Do you love this person, or the elusive version of the person that you construct in you head? Left untamed, “more” robs our ability to appreciate. It overshadows the many blessings that we already have.
The way to avoid this trap — in fact, the only way to love — is to accept. The brightest, most joyous times in relationships occur when we fully receive each other as is, no more and no less. It’s the moment when we choose to simply be with the other person. It requires us to create space for the other person to grow in his or her own time. It takes patience, but the reward is worthwhile.
The skill of acceptance doesn’t come naturally to me. But I’m committed to practicing it.