Pain tolerance

Gah. I hate it when I have the blogging voice in my head but I ignore it and put off writing for days and then the words, memories and thoughts build up and start crashing into each other to the point that I can no longer untangle one post idea from another. It's like a laundry pile of bloggable stuff up there and I need to sort it out into the darks, lights, sheets, delicates and the stuff that needs to be pre-treated. On the upside, the blogger voice has taken up residence in my head again. (Who in the hills gets excited for voices returning to her head? This girl does, apparently.)

I read an article that showed up on my Facebook news feed this week and found it strummed on my strings. What do you think the most important question you can ask yourself today is? Mark Manson  writes that it isn't "what do you want out of life" but rather, "what pain do you want out of life" because everyone wants the same pleasure, but we all differ on the kind of pain we'll endure to get the rewards. What are you willing to struggle for, Manson asks?

Everybody wants to have great sex and an awesome relationship -- but not everyone is willing to go through the tough communication, the awkward silences, the hurt feelings and the emotional psychodrama to get there. And so they settle. They settle and wonder "What if?" for years and years and until the question morphs from "What if?" into "What for?" And when the lawyers go home and the alimony check is in the mail they say, "What was it all for?" If not for their lowered standards and expectations for themselves 20 years prior, then what for?

Coming around to month eight of the Stillian Relationship Adventure, I still get jumpy and nervous whenever I say something and Stephen states that he believes the opposite. How can we live happily ever after if when I say black he says white, when I want almond milk he wants beer or if my dream is for X but his is for D, M or S and there is no room for X. On Thursday night Stephen told me he missed mushrooms (I am strongly opposed to them anywhere on my plate) and asked if he would ever get to eat them again. 

"Couples do that, right, they eat different things sometimes, right?" he asked. On Friday when I was grocery shopping I looked at the fresh mushrooms and considered them as an ingredient in an omelet I'd make for him (mine would be 'shroom free, and cooked in a different pan altogether, that's how much I dislike their flavour). For him I would put mushrooms into my shopping basket, of course I would. My mom was always so good about working around our family's various nutritional needs and preferences that I see this kind of accommodation as an act of love and a challenging opportunity to be creative in cooking. It's a pain, but it's one I enjoy and will choose to take on.

"On the other hand, I am willing to live out of a suitcase for months on end, to stammer around in a foreign language for hours with people who speak no English to try and buy a cell phone, to get lost in new cities over and over and over again. Because that's the sort of pain and stress I enjoy sustaining. That's where my passion lies, not just in the pleasures, but in the stress and pain."

When I read this part of the article it grips my heart. Sometimes I shake my head and wonder why  and how people endure my nonsense, but I remember that Love is a choice we make. We shrug off the pain and stress, even enjoy the challenge of it. Not everyone would make the same choice but we find happiness in the path we take. I had a big exhale in the moment I realised the simple truth: I don't have to be the stress-free, pain-free option to be chosen by Love. How freakin liberating is that? Hey people who love me, I may be a royal pain in the hindquarters but I am YOUR pain in the hindquarters. Yup, you choose me and I am beyond humbled and grateful.