Growing Beside You

The world might not need to know this, but I want to remember this kind of love and how it shapes me today. I want to reread those and be reminded by myself how this season of my life feels - steady, gentle yet strong.

Fifteen years. Fifteen years sounds long, but it is not a heavy duration. It feels... natural. We don't rush, and keep growing through it.

I was a person that define certainty as a safe and comfortable space. I liked knowing what to expect; staying in a zone that I could manage, and avoid stepping too far from uncertainty.

Eventually, on the day he puts the ring on my finger, he took the lead. I allow him to do so anyway, just like how God defines wife role. 

He never forced me to change or made me feel like I was behind. He gently invited me to step outside of what I was used to. Not with pressure, but with presence. He will say "Let's try!" followed with "I'll stay even if you don't want to". Now, how secured it feels?

And that, defines the difference. 

Growth - when it comes with pressure - feels like fear.
But growth - when it comes with safety, sense of protection, and adoration - feels like courage.

I learn things I didn't realize I needed. Resolve instead of avoid, overcome instead of retreat, and be brave without feeling alone. But what I appreciate the most is not just what he taught me, but how he stood still while I was learning. No rush, no judgment, and he doesn't make me feel small for taking my time. 

He became someone I could rely on so deeply that the world itself felt less frightening out of my zone. And that kind of reliability is quiet - doesn't show off or need to prove anything; yet you can feel it - in the way he stays... in the way he listens, and in the way he show up, again and again.

I didn’t lose myself in loving him. If anything, I became more of myself — because I was finally safe enough to grow, and that’s something I didn’t understand before.

I used to think growth had to come from independence alone, from standing strong by yourself, from proving that you don’t need anyone. But now I see it differently. Growth and love were never meant to be separated. 

When you choose the right person, love doesn’t limit you — it protects your becoming. It gives you a place to rest when you’re tired, and a hand to hold when you’re ready to move forward again. It allows you to be soft without being weak, and strong without being alone.

We are not perfect.

We still have long days, tired nights, moments where we don’t fully understand each other and chose to just hug and stay quiet. But even in those moments, there is something constant that we maintain; respect, patience, and the quiet decision to stay.

And maybe that’s what love really is. Not the loud moments, not the perfect image, not the things people show to the world.

But the ordinary days.

The bus rides where he stands beside me instead of taking a seat.
The public transportation becomes a place I can passed out with him embracing me.
The late-night coffees when he has work and I just sit with him.
The simple meals we prepare and cook together.
The Sudoku we compete, the puzzle we arrange, the laughter, the silence that still feels full.
The way I look at him when he sleeps,
and wonder how I got so lucky to love someone like this.

I feel treasured. I feel assured. I feel quietly blessed knowing that God wrote my story with him in it.

And if I ever forget how this feels - which I don't wish to happen, but - I hope I come back to this and remember:

I am loved. Not loudly, not perfectly, but steadily, patiently, and truly.

And in that love, I grew.