My husband cherishes me. I know this sounds cheesy but he does. He does things for me to make my life easier without me ever asking, like filling car with petrol, picking up takeaway if I’m tired, does things around the house to save me from having to.
We aren’t best friends, I’m close with my sisters, they’re like besties. He has his interests and friends too. I don’t like OTT display of affection, I hate flowers and mush. What I do like is that he loves me and our kids every day in ways that matter.
His mother raised him to be respectful, and I’ve always gotten along well with her. My husband is Asian, and I feel like he treats me like an equal, but also acts like a gentleman. He’s a great Dad too.
We had a family tragedy, the absolute worst thing you can imagine happening. The grief almost destroyed me. He held me up and kept our family together when I’d lost the will to live.
At the same time, I’m good to him and care for him. Cook him his favorite food, help organize work tasks, make life easier for him wherever I can, and have given our family a good social life with arranging gatherings and get togethers. I’m funny too, or he thinks so, us and our kids laugh often.
I work part time, so I’m more hands on with raising the children, and he respects the choices I’ve made for them (I had some terribly difficult choices to make on numerous occasions), and I think he’d say I’m a good Mum. We’re both proud of our children, they’re amazing.
I didn’t get married until late 30s, because I wasn’t prepared to put up with the crappy behavior I’d had from some boyfriends. I’m glad I waited, and I’m glad for my kids too, they’ve had a better childhood than I ever did.