When my husband and I met a little over a year ago there was so much going on in my life. I was truly at my lowest and there was so much I was not proud of. At the time I had lost everything. Take the time to define what everything is to you and that is the amount that I lost two years ago. My life took an unexpected turn for the worst and when I met my husband I was in the process of picking up the pieces from a slew of choices that left me homeless. There I said it. Two years ago I was homeless, for more reasons than I have time to divulge and some I have never whispered to a soul and never will. Point is, I told my husband (then boyfriend) the truth about where I was in my life. I did not tell him all the reasons why at the time, but I felt I was as honest as I needed to be. So now I would like the time to take a poll for my sanity, what is more important, quality or quantity?
Let me elaborate a bit before you respond. It has always been difficult for me to tell someone EVERYTHING about me. Frankly it would take forever, but if one sticks around long enough they will find EVERYTHING about me. Who I am is in the things I don’t say, the lyrical way that I move, and in the folds of eccentric ensembles that I wear. Like a painting if you look hard enough, long enough, you will find me, and you will know me. Not many people take the time to stand in front of an abstract painting to find the meaning in the surrealism in which they are drawn to. They just take the time to enjoy it and later when the understanding comes their interest leaves. This is my life. People allow themselves to get so close, because they are so intrigued and when they begin to figure out why this painting is constructed the way it is they lose sight of the beauty and focus on the why. I am strong, because of the pain I endured as a child. I am swift with my words and my actions, because life happened so fast around me that to survive I needed to think fast, and I am aloof, because those I was entrusted to betrayed my trust. People oftentimes appreciate beauty, but they shun the things that created that beauty. They appreciate the result without taking the time to appreciate the process. This tends to leave them disappointed as they find there is so much more than what is on the surface.
I met my husband online and as I stated I was not in the greatest state. My life was still all around me and I was trying to make sense of it all. I was literally living in a homeless shelter and just to give a bit of perspective, when I walked to work other homeless individuals would ask me for money. They had no clue that I was going to work just as much as they had no clue that I too was homeless. Looking at me one would not know that I was living in a shelter. However, I was upfront with my husband about where I was at in my life. I did not inform him of my living situation the first day we met, but within the first three days I realized it was not something I wanted to hide. His character was too understanding, too loving and I started to feel like I was lying about who I was. That is when I decided to tell him that I was living in a homeless shelter. I reiterate that I did not tell him all of the reasons why right off the back. It is hard for me to tell someone everything about me. I had shared so much in those first three days. I was upfront about my background, growing up in foster care and so much more. So now I ask, which is more important quality or quantity? Is it the quality of the individual that matters most or the quantity of their existence? How much does one have a right to know about me?
I ask, because I am paying a pretty price for not being “forthcoming” in EVERYTHING about me. I withheld something from six years ago and now he feels that I did it on purpose. That I strategically waited until we were married before I became honest, because I was trying to “Get what I wanted” from him. This is not true, but it is what he believes. I chose not to tell him, because frankly, I did not feel it was his business. I felt like I had a right to keep some things to myself especially if it did not affect him. The reason I decided to tell him was because I realized that it could. Unfortunately, this was after we were married by literally a day and now he questions the quality of my being and he doesn’t believe it. So what about the quantity of my being? Why is it that despite the intimate layers that I shared with him about who I am does he not believe me nor in me?
I apologized and I do see it from his perspective that I betrayed his trust and I am amiss about it. I see that maybe I should have told him though my position still remains that I felt I did not have to tell him everything. After all at the time he was only my boyfriend, which can mean everything and nothing! The depths of our relationship were thus that perhaps he had a right to know. In the same stroke I felt it was my God given right to say as much as I chose to. Knowing every intimate detail of someone is not a right it is a privilege.
In conclusion, where do we draw the line? Quality vs. Quantity: How much of who I am do I have to share with you? When one really thinks about it in these terms, how can you separate the two? It feels as though they are one.
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