When You Know, You Know

   When I was single in high school, I remember asking my married lady mentors, "how did you know that he was 'the one'?" The answer I was always given was, "when you know, you just know." This vague answer was extrememly frustrating to my angsty, longing to be romanced, and idealistic teenage self. However, it was the feeling I always sought in all of my romantic relationships. My first three years of college I was still trying to fit in and be straight. I dated some incredible Christian men before I came out as gay. I was convinced I was going to marry one in paticular. He was the kindest, most gentle, patient, and God loving man I have ever met. We talked about getting married during the romantic season of Christmas. We were going to have poinsettas everywhere because they are my favorite nostalgic plant, and our wedding colors were going to be red, black, and white. He knew I was "struggling with homosexuality" so black was symbolizing my "homosexual sin," red was to symbolize "Christ's redemption," and white was to symbolize "my new purity," because of our marriage. Being gay was "a choice" right? I was choosing to live "the way God wanted me to live" right? Our relationship was pefect on paper, but I couldn't make myself feel that "when you know, you know" feeling. He was tall, dark, and handsome, and everything I thought I wanted, but I could not feel physically attracted to him. I kept trying to justify this feeling by saying to myself, "but that doesn't matter as long as I love him right?" Oh, my heart was indeed troubled. Underneath all of the dreamy feelings many women have who dream about getting married, there was that nagging feeling that something was not right. My intuition screamed at me "WRONG WAY" like a car traveling the wrong way on the interstate. Thankfully, my Aunt had an unexpected conversation with me about the importance of having that "spark," that physical attraction, because that was indeed very important for a marriage. God interceded for me and my almost fiance' that day. I would have broken that incredible man's heart day after day, year after year, because I would not have been able to give him what he wanted, needed, and deserved as a married Christian man. Since I chose to end our romantic relationship, his heart only had to break once. We both felt the shatter of love lost and had to depend on God to put us back together. I still sometimes find myself mourning how much I hurt him, but I did not have that "when you know, you know" feeling that is one of the essential pieces of a lifetime commitment.
   I understand this feeling now, because I feel it with my wife. It feels like intuition, so it is subtle. It is the quiet and calm kind of beautiful, like a lavander butterfly that can be easily missed in our big world of distractions. It is like the small smile of a stranger who passes our way on the street. It is like a warm, waft of wind on a cold winter day. This feeling lingers when we argue, when we are angry with each other, or when I am angry at myself or circumstances outside of my control and I take it out on her. It lingers when we are annoyed by each others differing preferences. No matter how heated our arguments get, or how much I shut her out, I know deep in my heart that we will ALWAYS be together. The "when you know, you know" feeling is the essential piece I was missing in all of my other relationships. Because this feeling is not tangible, it is hard to describe, but I hope all of you beautiful unmarried people out there will be comforted by the existance of this "when you know, you know" feeling. I hope you will open yourselves up to trusting it when it happens to you. I hope you will refuse to settle as well as have the courage and self knowledge to feel it and embrace it when you have found "the one."