A Match Made
If you didn’t ask, you would never know that my husband and I don’t have the typical “boy meets girl” kind of relationship story. You see, I paid $4000 dollars to a matchmaker to be introduced to my spouse. He paid around $3000 to meet me; I still don’t know why he got off so cheap. After paying the exorbitant fee, I then explained to the matchmaker my vision of the one with whom I would be the most compatible. And then I was forced by the matchmaker to meet her choice even though I was less than impressed. (Not because there was anything wrong with him but because he was so very different from the type of man I thought I wanted.)
So $7000, three children and over eight years later we are still together. I have to say that several of my friends are already on their second and even third marriages. Those were the same friends that found the idea of using a matchmaking service to be old-fashioned, quaint, repugnant or just plain crazy. They told me that I was throwing my money away and making a quite possibly, dangerous decision. They were concerned that I would be meeting strangers in dark alleys, I guess.
When I finally came to terms with the decision to use a service to facilitate a relationship I was surprised that so many people had such very strong opinions about it. I was also surprised to find out that I did too! It seemed very natural to me to trust my love life to a professional. I truly believed that a certain level of objectivity was necessary. And I was greatly lacking in that department, as demonstrated by the long line of losers, psychopaths and possible ax murders that I’d already dated. Frankly, I had reached the point where I no longer cared whether the person was good for me so long as they were breathing. Objectivity was necessary!
After a few weeks of coercion by the matchmaker to meet the person that I was “destined” to marry, I caved and we met for coffee. He took my breath away. He was genuine and kind, with a crooked smile and a buzz cut. He exuded “low maintenance”, something I thought only existed in chick flicks. After years of dating damaged men, all afraid to commit on even a restaurant, here was a man ready for the next stage in life.
My friends worried. They said that arranged relationships such as ours lacked the passion necessary for a healthy marriage. I worried. Maybe they were right? It was so easy to be with him–it still is. We didn’t fight–we very seldom do, even now. Did that foresee a lack of passion? He did make me laugh and he still does. But then when he kissed me, that first time, my stomach did somersaults. The relationship advanced quickly and we were married 13 months to the day that we met.
Our relationship hasn’t changed dramatically over the years. We could easily be described as homebodies. We are comfortable. Our love is quiet and unassuming. Those friends that naysayed my choice of a matchmaker are surprised that our marriage has lasted, while theirs have crumbled. No, the passion that my friends spoke so highly of isn’t there. But our relationship isn’t as prone to combustion either. We are committed to the same goal, a long fruitful marriage. We love each other, we are committed to each other and the matchmaker can chalk up another successful match made.
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