My Big Fat First Wedding
Tim thinks I'm gorgeous in wet hair and sweatpants, in painting clothes and peeling sunburn, even after 14 years of marriage and one more child between us. When I was pregnant he told me bellies were sexy. When I had breast cancer and was afraid I'd need a mastectomy, he said, "Well, I'll still have one breast to play with. We'll just have to change sides in bed."
As I discovered with Robert, every spouse acts as a mirror for the other. I'm pleased to report that Tim's mirror has some very favorable lighting. I remember the first time we went to his family's home on a Wisconsin lake. The water looked exquisite, but I made excuses to avoid swimming. "Why aren't you going in?" Tim asked, genuinely puzzled. "You love to swim."
"I'll be in a bathing suit in front of every one," I moaned.
He slapped my rear end and grinned. "And I can't wait," he said.
I laughed and put on my suit. Holding hands, we walked down to the dock, where we admired the sunlight sparkling off the green water before diving in. There, in that vast lake, we swam side by side in an easy rhythm, our skin cool and smooth when we touched, my body a vessel that barely contained my joy.
*All names in this article have been changed since my ex-husband understandably went ballistic when I told him I was writing it.
Originally published in Ladies' Home Journal, June 2009.
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