At this point, it’s so overused that it’s basically a cliché to say, “I married my best friend.” But what’s funny is that I didn’t consider my husband to be my best friend when I married him.
I had another best friend. She shopped and gossiped with me. That’s what best friends do, right? Listen to each other vent and get pedicures together? Go see the same concerts and movies? Share a Justin Timberlake obsession?
But after almost a decade of marriage, and six years of parenthood, a lot of my perceptions have changed. Friendship isn’t about who I go out to lunch with anymore. In fact, I don’t see many movies outside the hours of 9 and 10:30 pm these days (after the kids are in bed and before we are). I can’t even remember the last concert I went to. And my last pedicure involved multiple My Little Pony stickers.
I spend more time with my husband than with anyone else, and he has definitely become my best friend over the years. I don’t care how corny it sounds; I’m proud to call him my BFF. It’s an intimacy that we’ve built, and earned, over time.
We’ve seen the best and the worst days, and survived them, together. We’ve helped each other through some of our darkest times, and it’s brought us closer together than either of us anticipated.
I’m lucky that we laugh at the same silly stuff. We’re both funny and believe that laughter brings some much-needed levity to our lives.
He even begrudgingly puts up with the stuff I like that he doesn’t. Likewise, I pretend to understand what he’s saying when he goes on and on about his fantasy football draft.
We always back each other up. No matter what.
We’re a pretty amazing team. He steps up when I need him to. He takes turns changing dirty diapers and waking up in the middle of the night to console tired kids. He’s a great father and seeing him talk and play with our kids still makes me swoon.
We fight, because we’re both passionate people, but we never stay mad for long, and we try not to hold grudges. And we try to fight fair. We make it a point not to say cruel things to one another, because we know there are some things you can’t take back.
We still enjoy each other’s company after all these years. We like talking to each other, and actually listening and learning from one another. And I feel like I can talk to him about anything, without fear of judgment. And there’s no doubt in my mind that I can trust him.
We do our best to make time to reconnect physically, even if it’s just kisses, snuggles, or a well-timed ass grab to remind each other that we still got it. In this case, he’s a best friend with benefits, I guess.
But most importantly, he loves me for who I am, encourages me to do what I love, and supports my decisions even if he doesn’t necessarily agree with them. And I try to do the same for him.
We’re kind to each other and love one another unconditionally. And at the end of the day, that’s what having a best friend is all about. Of course, I have other close friendships too, but my husband is my BFF.
And I couldn’t ask for a hotter BFF, honestly.
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