how I knew he was the one for me

Several queens upvoted my response when I said I should tell how I knew that late husband Jack was the one for me, so here goes.

First of all, there was initial physical attraction from both sides. One of the main things to understand was that we matched energy from the start, and everything was mutual and reciprocal always. Energy flowed both ways, strongly, between us from the start. Every other man I dated, including first husband, there wasn't this strong, equal flow of energy and it was always off. Not with Jack: we had a calming effect together, but our minds were always active and attuned.

We met online, on a listserv for scholars of Victorian literature. I'm a big believer in that where and how you meet determines a lot of energy going forward. (Start as you mean to go on.) Meet in a bar, a low-energy place, I just don't think that bodes well for an ongoing relationship. We met where we both had a huge interest and passion. I messaged first, in a strictly friendly way, and said I liked what he said and how he said it. I liked that he always included "{grin}" in his posts, which were chock full of information as well as humor and insights. So immediately, he captivated my mind. He returned the compliment and said he liked what I posted too, and he said I asked good questions that really energized the listserv and made people want to jump in and answer.

We were both married, but we were increasingly unhappy. Neither one of us was looking for our next spouse. I reached out in a friendly way; he responded in a friendly way, and the conversation just took off. We were not about to be "those people" who met online and ran off, so we both agreed we would give our marriages a year to turn things around, because neither one of us wanted to divorce. We loved our spouses; we wanted to work things out. We knew divorce would be painful and messy, so we tried, and it was a total Hail Mary that just didn't work. I am proud to say that we did try, though, and we really gave it our all, but things were just too far gone. Both his ex-wife and my ex-husband were controlling sorts, insecure, anxious, non-communicators, out of touch with feelings.

With Peter, I had gone from being securely attached (which I was with every other relationship) to really anxious attachment. That alone helped me see that the problem wasn't me, but him. I believe he had avoidant-dismissive attachment. I also believe strongly that he just thought it was time he got married; I was convenient, so he acquiesced and was never all in. Peter was also asexual and aromantic, but because he was so out of touch with his feelings, and because I was young, a pickme, sleepwalking, and naive, I had no clue what attachment styles were, or how to deal with anyone like him, since I had never met anyone like him before. What I remember most is that most bids for attention were either ignored or rebuffed or shut down, and eventually, I stopped trying. It broke my heart when I decided that I was done asking for affection that never got reciprocated, and he could come to me from then on. He never asked. He was quite content to live as roommates, and that was the beginning of the end. I was enraged by his indifference.

Jack and I talked about EVERYTHING -- Peter and I talked about nothing, and there were vast deserts of topics that I simply couldn't bring up or he'd shut it down -- and I loved how there was no subject that couldn't be brought up. That to me was one of the main ways I knew that Jack and I would be friends for a long, long time, if not forever, just that we could talk so well and easily. And I was super pleased that we established that baseline friendship first. We connected as people first, and got to know each other. We found out we had a ton in common, and what we didn't have in common just wasn't that important. To me, the Big Five things you simply MUST have in common are sex, religion, work, housework, and money. Disagree on one, and a relationship is in jeopardy; disagree on two or more, it's a matter of time til a breakup. Not surprisingly, ex-wife and ex-husband disagreed on most of these things.

About six to nine months into getting to know Jack, he divorced and it was all final, and I was mentally starting the process, realizing things were getting dire. (Peter gave me sex three times in three years, and nothing I did or said changed anything. This was mid-90s, and I never found any porn in the house, so it was him. He just was a cold fish.) Jack told me within a few months of knowing me that he loved me and he wanted to marry me. That let me know that he wasn't playing games; he was serious about being long-term, and he wanted me for me, since at that time, I was in Louisiana, and he was in Los Angeles. I was very impressed by his being so upfront, and not wasting any time. I felt wanted, needed, appreciated for myself, and as a woman.

It worked out for both of us that I was extremely willing to move. I had always wanted out of my small hometown, the state, and the South in general. I knew LA was hiring for teachers, and I had just come into some money, so everything was smooth and rather effortless. I'm also a big believer that if something is meant to be, it will be nearly effortless, and that things will flow. You won't encounter many, if any roadblocks. It's rather a sign from the universe that you're on the right path. I've noticed anytime I encounter roadblocks or dead ends, I'm just not meant to go down that road, and the universe is sending a clear signal. All signals with Jack were green lights.

We lived apart for a year, just to make sure things were right, and again, good decision, no rushing. We took things slowly, since we just knew we were going to be together as long as we both lived, so why rush? Then we married, bought our condo, and lived together happily for 17 years. I can't ever remember arguing with Jack. Whenever we had anything to discuss and decide, we always talked everything out. He always listened, didn't talk over me or interrupt, and took my opinions and thoughts seriously as an equal. I had met all his friends, and we all got on very well. I blended seamlessly into his life, which we made our life, as I created my own life and career out in LA. (With Peter, I always felt like an interloper. He always referred to the place we lived as "his" house, never our house. He never made room for me; I had a chair in a corner. I managed to carve out space for my books, but everything just felt fought for, begrudged. I think he seriously wanted someone who was small, who had no needs, no wants.) Again, a good sign: fitting in should be natural and effortless, as if you've always been together. I've been with some men to where I didn't fit in with his family or friends (esp when I dated down once or twice, and was markedly more educated; there just wasn't much to talk about). I'm glad to say that although Jack's sister and I don't talk or email a lot, we're still in touch and we always consider each other sisters-in-law.

The marriage itself was bliss, intellectually and emotionally; we were always close. The only hard part was caregiving. Jack and I talked before we got married, and since he was much older than me, he asked if I was okay becoming a widow in my 40s or 50s, since he would more than likely pass before me. To me it was worth it then, but not again; we knew each other for 20 years, and were married for 17 years. I did become a nurse and a purse, but he was the love of my life. I didn't know what high-functioning depression looked like; I learned just how life-altering and all-consuming it became. Now, one of the ways I would vet is to have a heart-to-heart talk about issues, all cards on the table. With another man, our issues would have to play well together, or no go.

Had Jack somehow been able to take care of himself, he might have lived another 10-15 years, but he just couldn't. I did a lot for him -- in fact, I saved his life on four separate occasions, bullying him into going into the ER -- but I couldn't do everything. There is only so much you can do with another adult who has choices, no matter how detrimental those choices are to them. I don't beat myself up over this; I know I did all I could, within my power. I know Jack had a good, comfortable, happy life right up to the end, since he died comfortably at home, surrounded by me, our best friend, and our housekeeper of 20 years who was chosen family, as well as caring hospice workers.

As it stands now, I don't want to marry a third time since I'm in my 50s. I want a living apart together situation with a man who utterly adores me, who is devoted, who also wants lifelong companionship, but who is, like me, a strong introvert who likes his own space. I want companionship. I don't want to cook, clean, or caregive ever again. I have no kids; damn sure don't want anyone else's kids. And I want to keep finances separate. All of this vets for men who just want to be taken care of, and who don't want to contribute much, if anything; I can see such a man immediately running away because our wants and needs don't match up, and no loss. I don't want to deal with anyone else's credit score, or debt, or lack of housekeeping. As an amateur artist and introvert, I need my own space, and I need most hours of the day for peace and quiet.

I hope this helps. What I loved most about Jack and me was that everything was mutual and reciprocal, down the line, throughout our time together. That to me counts for nearly everything. Our energy was the same; we had the same mind and heart. We had tons in common. We had the same goals. We could talk about everything: good, bad, and ugly, without judgment or condemnation. We delighted in each other always; we were friends first, with a strong basis in commonalities and sharing ourselves freely, never holding back. Mostly I remember how every part of me just relaxed in a soul-deep, bone-deep way when we met, because we were SAFE with each other. We had unconditional positive regard and as close to unconditional love as humanly possible. And when you've been loved well and truly, there is no settling. I hope this helps.