Keys to a 10 year strong relationship
steffani

Keys to a 10 year strong relationship

10 years ago on July 16th I got married.

I remember the day I met John on my front steps. I was 15 and he was 11. He was really cute and really charming. It was my block party.  And I was smitten.  But there was one hurdle.  He was in 5th grade and I was a Sophomore in High School.  Yea.  4 years is a BIG age gap back then.

He was tall for his age so that was good and he hung out with an older crowd.  Within 10 minutes of meeting he told me he liked me. He said things like “you’re it for me”. And when I told him he was too young he said “will you wait for me?”

As if he knew something that I didn’t.

I fell for him….. His light blue eyes. His big smile. His thick messy hair. And most of all I fell for the way he made me feel. No Sophomores made me feel like this.

It didn’t last back then.  Grade School and High School were too different.  But I’d run into him here and there and he would always give me a really charming smile and his eyes would draw me back in.

10 years later we met again. And he asked me out. Actually he asked me if I’d been waiting and if I was ready for him. 🙂 I was….

10 years after that, to the day, we got married.  In a candle lit ceremony at midnight with all of our friends and family we finally said “I do”.

Now 30 years later from that summer on my front porch, we celebrate our 10 year wedding anniversary.

Although it sounds like an epic love story, it hasn’t always been easy. Actually it’s rarely been easy.

The growing pains you experience moving through 2 decades together can be intense. We moved through our 20’s together, and partying and breakups and many jobs. We’ve lost loved ones and John got sober. We moved through marriage and 2 kids and mortgages and more jobs.

It honestly feels like we’ve been through it all. We’re very different people. People would describe us as exact opposites.  But somehow we’ve stayed together. Even when he was drinking and using drugs. I saw the real John inside of him. Even when I lost all faith in us, he still saw the hope in me.

20 years later I wish I could say we have it down. We know how to maneuver this relationship but I don’t think we do. It’s still work. Issues still come up that we don’t anticipate. We still fight. We still hurt each other.

And yet we always, always come together in the end. And he always, always surprises me.

Bottom line is I never think about my life without him. Every relationship is a choice. And I chose John.

When I made that choice to love him unconditionally that was when we really got married. That’s when we really committed until death do us part.

Most of the women who I coach are struggling in their relationships. I don’t have any less conflict or issues than any other married women. I just choose not to struggle. 

I choose to accept the things I cannot change. 

I choose to take 100% responsibility for my happiness. 

I choose to love him unconditionally and through it all. 

And that has been the key to our 20 year relationship.

Now my goal is to continue to grow and see just how good we can make this relationship.

I refuse to settle for an average relationship.

For our 10 year/20 year anniversary we’re committing to a few things.

Weekly date nights, without fail. And quarterly overnights without the kids. We’re recommitting to respect, appreciation and daily gratitude.

It will still take work and new habits but if I know one thing I know it will be worth it.

What can you do to recommit to your relationship?  😊😍

Let me know and we can hold each other accountable.

Celebrating love today!

Steffani

PS I have some fun new things on the horizon…. 🙂 Keep a look out.

Confessions From a Mom of a Strong Willed Child
steffani

Confessions From a Mom of a Strong Willed Child

I yell at my kids.

I’ve grabbed my son, Jack, by the arm and literally dragged him to his room. I have slapped his hand, spanked his butt, and told him I’m moving to California and never coming back.

None of this I’m proud of. It actually haunts me at night. How I, a very peaceful, loving, happy and positive person most of the time, could do this to a child is beyond me. He’s only 6, and this has been going on since he was born. If I saw someone treating their kid this way I would be disgusted. Not only would I judge them harshly, but I would consider calling the police.

I see it a lot, though. And all too often is nothing physical — it’s just verbal abuse. Literally abuse. Recently I looked at a Mom who was berating her son at a hockey game about the usual morning issues, “You had your socks when we left the house. It’s not my job to keep track of your stuff,” she yelled while dragging him by the arm across the locker room. They were obviously late for the game. She slammed him down on the bench and started unpacking his hockey bag by dumping the contents all over the floor. I saw the look in this 9-year-old’s eyes — he was defeated. He looked like a 9-year-old version of my son, almost exactly. I wanted to walk over to her and whisper, “There’s a better way. Don’t do this.” Instead, I looked inside and turned those words back on myself. How can I find a better way when in that moment?

If you have a “strong willed” child at home, which basically describes every kid between the age of 18 months to 8 years old, then you know you’ve been there. it’s not EVERY kid that age, but most of them. You know if you have a strong willed child, and you’ve probably known since the day they were born. A strong willed child can push buttons you never thought you had. They’re the toddlers that run away from you at the park with no fear at all. They’re the kids that drop their pants at a play date just for laughs. Who uses every bad word he knows to get attention from his friends. Who crosses a line if you say don’t cross it.

Right? Do you know what I mean?

My son has a filter up to the words. “Don’t” and “No.” When you say them, he MUST do it. That’s how he’s wired. And I’m sure I was the same way. Now don’t get me wrong, I love my son so hard it hurts. Sometimes I literally want to eat him for breakfast. I can’t get enough of his cheeks and his soft skin and his cute haircut. It’s beyond words. I’m sure you know. And sometimes when I’m putting him to bed at the end of a long day, his strong will is almost blinding me. I want to jump out of the window. I have said more then once, “If you don’t lay down and get to sleep I’m going to jump out of this fucking window.” Yes, I swore at a 2-year-old!

So, when I saw that Mom, spent and furious, treating her kid like a common criminal, I looked within and I asked myself how can I be the best Mom possible to my strong willed child?

And here’s what I came up with… Here’s my REAL confession…

I am not a perfect Mom.

Sometimes I don’t even feel like a good Mom, but I do think my son is perfect. Sometimes he misbehaves, but he’s still perfect. He often doesn’t listen, but he’s still perfect. He challenges any and all authority, but he’s perfect. If there’s a rule, he will break it, but that’s perfect. I’m done trying to make my son someone he’s not. I’m sick of feeling like a bad parent every time his behavior is outside of the norm or makes people uncomfortable. A strong willed child has an enormous personality. That’s a lot to fit in a tiny body. They’re trying to figure this life thing out, right along beside us. Some teachers get it. Most don’t. They’re intimidated by their strength. Camp counselors either love them or hate them.And that’s ok.

The most important thing is that I love him. That I GET him, and that I accept him for the strong willed kid that he is. What I know for sure is that he’ll grow up to do amazing things. Kids with personalities the size of Texas don’t just idle through life unnoticed. They make waves and those waves create a ripple. Last week, he insisted on carrying his teachers chair for her. My heart melted. And he asked a kid over for a play date because he thought he could use a friend. That’s my boy. Now if only I can remember that when I’m trying get him to go to bed. I’m working on it. Until then I’ll remind myself that strong willed children come from strong willed parents, who were typically strong willed children too. I feel they need a LOT of compassion and maybe more breathing room then other kids. Lots of responsibility and tons of love. I’m gonna stop apologizing so much and stop walking on egg shells. I’m gonna be confident and supportive of my son and who he is, in all his perfection.

If you have a strong willed kid at home, join me. What can you do to accept your child and encourage their uniqueness all while loving yourself, too?

How I “Found” God at an Afterparty
steffani

How I “Found” God at an Afterparty

I was only 11 years old when my sister died. She was 18 at the time. It was sudden, devastating and life shattering when a drunk driving accident took her life. I remember it like it was yesterday. Only it was over 30 years ago. I remember the moment my mom answered the phone in the middle of the night and told us Traci was in an accident. I remember at that time praying to “God” that she was okay and that I couldn’t go back to sleep. I felt sick to my stomach, but didn’t know why.

I remember going into her hospital room and her head was bald. I wasn’t expecting it to be so bad. I remember feeling like there were too many people in the room although there were only a few of us in there. It felt crowded whenever I went in. I now realize that should have been clue number one that she was transitioning.

And then I remember going home that night and praying hard. I remember telling God that he needed to leave my sister here with us. That we needed her. I begged and pleaded. Bargained with him. I told him I would do anything he asked. I would listen at school. I would never curse. I would be nice to my brother and my sisters. And to the kids next door who I had cursed at. I would be a devout Protestant, or whatever we were (I didn’t really know at the time). And then… I threatened him. I said out loud, “Show me that you exist! Leave my sister here! Let her live or else!” She died the next morning.

As you can guess I was pretty angry. This supposedly all powerful being denied my one request. I did everything I could and he or she could not help me. My conclusion… God doesn’t exist. There is no higher power. Nothing happens after we die. This is it. And I went on to live my life that way for the next 10 years. Its pretty convenient to be an atheist when you’re a teenager. I had NO guilt. I felt no remorse for anything I did. Mind you, I wasn’t a really bad kid at all, but I got into plenty of trouble. I thought my friends who were religious were just weak. To me, religion = weakness and naivety. I KNEW there was nothing bigger then us. I asked for something, I begged for something and I didn’t get it. The proof is in the outcome.

When I was away at college, I started to recognize that my thoughts could create. When I focused on something, I could create it. Good or bad, happy or sad, I could create it. I still didn’t think this was God’s work, I just thought it was something different. I realized the more I focused on something, the quicker it would come. A part in a play, a boyfriend, an A in class, a new friend, anything. When I focused on it I created it. I remember specifically having a hard time with a teacher, and the more I thought about the issue the worse it became. So I tested it. I pictured a better experience with this teacher. I focused on an improved relationship, and much to my surprise it got better.

Hmmmmm. What was happening? Was this God? Was he paying me back for the pain and suffering he caused me? Maybe I was due some good times. So I started asking for more good times, and I got them. I started focusing on everything I wanted, not what I didn’t want and I got it. There’s really nothing that I’ve wanted that I didn’t get eventually. So, this was new territory to explore this whole “thoughts create” business. I wanted to know if it was God or not.

I quickly dove into some books: The Tao of Pooh, Zen and The Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, Fountain Head, The Alchemist. I literally read all of those books in one week. Then, at an afterparty at a Pike house, I found Conversations With God. I hesitated to read it at first because it had the word “God” in it. “Ugh,” I thought, “if this is at all religious I’m tearing it up.” It was quite the opposite.

What Neale Donald Walsch wrote in that book spoke to my soul. Every word I read rang true to me. Everything inside of me said, “Yes, that’s right, that’s how it is”. God is not something outside of us; it IS US. We’re not separate from some omnipotent being who needs us to do something in order for him to be happy. We are the omnipotent. God doesn’t create the good or bad things in our lives. WE create, through our thoughts words and actions. I realized when I had these revelations that God didn’t take my sister from us. We all had an agreement to experience this life exactly as we were experiencing it. How lucky were we that she spent 18 years with us. Could we celebrate the 18 years instead of mourn for the time we didn’t have with her? These were some big revelations for a 21 year old. Even now at 44 I look back and reflect on how profound it was for me to accept my sister’s death and God’s roll in it all and feel so good about it. Good is a bad word to use in that situation but I do feel good. Not only do I feel good, I feel grateful.

What if we all accepted our lives exactly as they are, we wanted nothing to be different at all, we reveled in it, rejoiced in it, and we were grateful for it every day and in every way? What kind of world would this be? Every year on January 19th I reread Conversations With God or one of his many other books to honor my sister and to remind me of my 10 years as an atheist. It was a fun 10 years, but oh wow, are these years a lot better.