A perfect marriage
A perfect marriage
I have a school friend who seemed to be so happy in her first marriage.
We all admired her idyllic white picked fence life. Secretly wished our relationships were so perfect.
My dear friend had a nose job because her husband was not happy with the shape mother nature gave hers. She always watched her weight. Hubby didn’t want a flabby wife. It did not suit his social status as a doctor.
She had to do cooking courses to be able to wine and dine his international guests with flair. Manicures, pedicures, facials. All had to be done to keep him happy.
It seemed to work, we all thought. She painted such a pretty picture of her marriage every day.
He got a wonderful job in Canada and we all were sad to see the happy couple and their cute daughter go.
She sent us lovely pictures of their perfect new apartment and their perfect life.
A year later she arrived back in South Africa. A broken woman.
Dear hubby told her she and their daughter are no longer in his future plans. He put them on a plane back to South Africa and moved in with his secretary – with a not so perfect nose.
After the storm calmed down se told us in retrospect what went wrong: communication.
He was so busy with his glamorous practice and she so busy raising their child that they never had time to be alone anymore. There was always another social function and another patient who needed more attention than his family.
Old story … they grew apart.
She admitted that she was so busy being the perfect wife that she actually wasn’t so perfect at all.
She should have demanded more quality time with her husband. Maybe it would have allowed him to see she had a perfect nose … and that she was still the nice girl he fell in love with at university.
She and her second husband celebrated their 5th anniversary the other day. This time she is really happy because she knows the secret.
They enjoy each others company!
They make a point of spending time together as a couple. Dinner once a week and a weekend every two months.
A simple but perfect solution. – Martie Swanepoel