If Meghan Trainor’s ‘Dear Future Husband’ Was Written by Someone With Fibromyalgia
Dear Future Husband,
I had high hopes for the Megan Trainor song when I first heard it. I was hoping maybe a modern woman would have the right words for what it was I was looking for in my future partner. But boy, was I disappointed. In fact, as I processed the words she was singing I sat in my driveway and cried. That was the moment I realized I wasn’t like other women anymore. I don’t care about flowers on anniversaries. I can’t buy you everything you’ll ever need. I won’t withhold sex if you don’t tell me I am beautiful every night. But here is what I do want.
I want you to stay.
No man has been able to do it yet. As soon as they get a look at my reality, they turn tail and run. Fibromyalgia is the big pink elephant that follows us around all day and squeezes in between us in bed at night. I wish so badly that it would just go away. But it won’t. So if you really love me, you will have to accept that this twosome has to be a threesome. Me, you and my least favorite F-word.
So, dear future husband, here’s a few things you oughta know.
I will lie to you. Every. Single. Day. Straight to your face without batting an eyelash. You will ask me how my day was and I will lie and tell you something on a scale of “fine” to “great.” Trust me, it probably wasn’t either. If you ask if it hurts if you touch me there, I will say no. When we are intimate I will happily move into positions that feel like death itself because I want you to enjoy yourself. I’ll cry from the pain in my joints in the bathroom later, but you will never see it.
There will always be a wall between us. If you are lucky and get close enough to it to knock down a few bricks, you’re not going to like what you see on the other side. You will see my self-loathing struggle as I sit naked at the edge of my bed, because I just can’t stand anything touching my skin anymore, and knock back a handful of pills for the umpteenth time that day. When you lie next to me at night, you will feel the jerks and twitches of my arms and legs keeping you awake. You will get bounced around by my endless tossing and turning. You may sleep alone because of the insomnia. Or I may never get out of bed at all. It all just depends on what cards I am dealt that day.
I will have more ugly days than pretty ones. I will have hysterical crying fits where I yell at my body for not being able to do things that it used to be able to do, like wear high heels and open soda cans. It will happen at the most inconvenient and/or inappropriate time. I will probably almost exclusively wear leggings every day. I will snap at you because when the pain gets to be too much, something’s gotta give and it usually ends up being the one I love the most. That’s you. It won’t be a glamorous love. If there are any cinematic elements to our relationship, they’ll be the dramatic ones.
But I can promise you, if you stay, you will be the most loved man in the world. It takes someone with courage and integrity to commit to “in sickness and in health” before your life together even truly begins. Even in the moments when I’m blinded by pain, I will still see the love you have for me. I will lie to you because I care. I will keep that wall there so you are safe. There are a lot of things that I can’t do, but you bet I’m going to try. I will go to the ends of the earth for you. Because you are willing to meet me right here, where I am.
Fibromyalgia is something I have, but it is not who I am. I am a warrior, because I still wake up every morning. I am gentle, because I know what it is to be broken. I am passionate because I know what it is like to feel the fire burn out. I care for others, because I know what it’s like to need somebody. I am beautiful, because I allow myself to be ugly with my truth. I am smart. I am funny. I am creative. Loving. Nurturing. Affectionate. There will be good days. And because of you, there may even be great days.
I look forward to it very much.
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