Happy (un) Marriage

Love is patient and is kind; love doesn’t envy. Love doesn’t brag, is not proud, doesn’t misbehave itself, doesn’t seek its way, is not provoked, takes no account of evil; doesn’t rejoice in unrighteousness, but rejoices with the truth; bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never fails. — 1 Corinthians 13:4–8

When I got married, those were the words on our DIYed invitation.

I got married to a man in the presence of many Christian friends, rejoicing in the union because we followed the will of God based on the doctrine.

But so much for pleasing the people who interpret the words of God.

It wasn’t a sacrifice on my end, not succumbing to God’s will. I took part in the coercion, subtle, but it was mere manipulation.

We lived under the sanctity of marriage. We went to church, gave tithes, and joined the couple’s retreats, but there was that void inside me. I couldn’t point it at first because the acceptance of people who shared the same ideologies and beliefs overwhelmed me.

I said those words pleasing to everybody’s ears and kept prancing in the cadence they wanted me to move with. Yet, I was not happy.

Every day was a struggle.

Love was powerful. It tried to bind us. To lead us to where we should be. Love hovered, and it sipped through the aperture of our consciousness, but it was vetoed.

Love stays with those who are meant to be.

Love becomes stronger whenever doubled with honesty. We were never honest, and I could only speak of myself; I tried even though it was not my love story.

I have a powerful concept of love. I witnessed my parents honored and respected each other.

Who should we blame?

I left. I turned my back on that love, even tied in matrimony.

Love?

It’s the most constant thing aside from change. Love is energy; if you live with it, you attract the equivalent.

But that energy dissipated because it wasn’t meant to stay between two low frequencies. It didn’t thrive. It was nullified, albeit contrary to documents with barcodes.

I remembered talking to one person who made fun of my decision. He said an annulment is an option that I cannot win. My premise was weak. He was attacking me from his perspective of marriage.

I wasn’t good at confrontation, and I conceded to his square kind of thinking.

And there were bunches of those who would deny me their understanding. It’s okay!

I made those decisions in my early 20s, undecided and misguided. It was some misadventure of a feeble young mind, and it steered me to various kinds of programming.

Tradition.

Culture.

Religion.

Doctrines.

Nothing had stopped me.

I have broken free and braved, traversing the unknown.

I lived a life with stigma.

Some men took advantage of that label on my collar. I was a potential prey to predators. Women who are separated from previous marriages have this identity.

I got burned when I played with fire; third degree, I balked.

It was like living hell on Earth once more. That’s why I didn’t believe in any distinct destination my soul would travel to when I die.

You experience heaven or hell by how you live in this lifetime.

I stopped sabotaging my happiness; I took care of myself. I devoted time and affection to my well-being, and then I met a man who promised me another chance to find true love.

He took risks. I was skeptical but curious at the same time. I didn’t tie my expectations to him. I enjoyed the flow; we were in our 85th month with a kid before we knew it.

People put labels on everything, and their respect depends on the inscription they put on you.

The Philippines is one of the two remaining countries that does not honor divorce. You got married, so stay and swallow all the principles entailed to it. You want out; pay the price.

It had been ten years from the time I popped the bubble. I had the chance to pay for the annulment, but I opted not to, not because I clung to the marriage but because it was too costly. However, I regretted not filing when I had the resources. I could be wearing that bond on my finger now and labeling myself as a wife.

In our society, the label is everything, but I cared less since I understand how perspective works. All the more when I explored the erroneous zones we have as humans.

In my state now, in a happy (un) marriage, I scrutinize 1 Corinthians 13:4–8:

“Love is patient and kind; love doesn’t envy. Love doesn’t brag, is not proud, doesn’t behave itself inappropriately, doesn’t seek its way, is not provoked, takes no account of evil; doesn’t rejoice in unrighteousness but rejoices with the truth; bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things endure all things. Love never fails.”

My translation of the verse in my present way of thinking:

Choose your partner repeatedly daily to make the love stay and grow stronger.

Practice empathy. Review the golden rule. Always put yourself in your partner’s shoes.

Be mindful of your moods and your words.

Choose to feel that potent emotion towards your partner daily.

Love is not pure words and descriptions that you have to live with.

Love is a decision that you want to share this lifetime with somebody.

A resolution to accept all the frailties and strengths of that person.

Align your values with him and always give room for improvement.

I had those words when I got married but never experienced those values, despite being surrounded by people who breathed every word in the Bible.

Now that I am living a life deviating from the dogma, without reading the Bible or depending my life on it, I live with those words.

Words are powerful, and I have to be careful with what my tongue speaks.

I am happy, but I DO NOT confine myself to those names the world puts on us.

I am previously married.

I am a mother of two.

I am in a relationship with the father of my second child, unmarried…

But I was never happier than being in this (un)marriage.