My Husband Is Not My Soulmate — And That's Okay
I don't know what a soulmate is, but I know my husband isn't mine.
LuckyBusiness | Canva Several years ago, a friend of mine was going through a rough patch in her marriage and asked me if I believed in soulmates and, if so, did I consider my husband to be my soulmate.
At the time I was married about five years and gave her what I thought was a truly enlightened answer.
I told her that I didn't believe that we had one soulmate in our lives. I believe that we have many soulmates.
And yes, I believe that my husband is one of my soulmates.
Well, that was almost 15 years, one child, and at least four or five jobs ago.
So now, after close to 20 years with my Prince Charming, I wonder, does he still fit the bill? Is my husband my soulmate?
I mean, really, wouldn't my soulmate intuitively know that my vision of cleaning the kitchen includes wiping the counters?
So I thought about it and did a quick search online and found that there's a lot written on the subject. I found "10 Traits of Your Ideal Soul Mate," "How to Know When You've Found Your Soul Mate," and lots of quizzes including "What Candy is Your Soulmate?" (mine was a Mars bar, chocolate and caramel... there's a surprise).
And, of course, there are the definitions, most of which romanticize the idea of soulmates like this one from Urban Dictionary.
"Your soulmate understands and connects with you in every way and on every level, which brings a sense of peace, calmness, and happiness when you are around them. And when you are not around them, you are all that much more aware of the harshness of life, and how bonding with another person in this way is the most significant and satisfying thing you will experience in your lifetime."
Seriously?
If this defines your relationship then more power to you but I don't think it's a sense of peace, calm, or happiness that I feel at three in the morning when I get woken up from a sound sleep because my soulmate is conducting a symphony of teeth grinding and snoring.
Don't get me wrong, I like romance. I've watched the movies and read the books. I too had visions that one day a man would walk through my door and say, "You complete me."
And I do love my husband, we have a wonderful life together and he is very supportive.
But does he complete me? Do we connect in every way and on every level? The honest answer is no.
But what if a soulmate is something entirely different? What if your soulmate is not the person who brings you peace and calm or the person who completes you?
What if your soulmate is someone who makes life more difficult by challenging you to see the things about yourself that you didn't want to see?
Would that be someone with whom you'd want to share your life?
Take a look at something else my search turned up, a quote from author Elizabeth Gilbert:
"People think a soulmate is your perfect fit, and that's what everyone wants. But a true soulmate is a mirror, the person who shows you everything that is holding you back...A true soul mate... tear(s) down your walls and smack you awake. But to live with a soul mate forever? Nah. Too painful. Soulmates, they come into your life just to reveal another layer of yourself to you, and then leave."
Yikes, why would you want someone like that in your life? Someone who exposes my insecurities, who tears me down, who makes me look at my imperfections?
Heck, if my husband did that he'd be out on the street.
So, no thank you. I don't need my husband to be my soulmate.
I'm perfectly happy believing him when he tells me that my outfit doesn't make me look fat and that he really does like my singing.
Because it's those little white lies that we tell each other that bind us together. The ones that pump us up rather than tear us down.
It's being there for each other, through thick and thin, good times and bad that really matters.
Because after all, what's a few crumbs on the counter?
BlogHer is the leading cross-platform media network created by, for, and with women social media leaders.