It's about to get real...

I have many lighthearted type of anecdotes to share on here at some point, but I tend to run deep so hang on tight. It's gonna get real today, people. I want to go on the record as a married person who has gone through 2 seasons in her life now where she has fantasized about being single. Yes, I'm a nice person with a great husband (whom I love dearly) and 2 precious children who bring me great joy almost every day, which is pretty amazing, really. But occasionally I think back to my globe-trotting single days and think yeah, I'd like to go back to that time when things were simple. I was a viable, virginal girl (because let's face it, Christian woman find singleness more intimidating when they're no longer virgins, regardless of the reason) and the world was my oyster. I hesitate to speak frankly on the idea of singleness fantasies because I've never heard a married person say these truths and what if (eek!) I'm the only person out there who sometimes wants to think for 1 instead of 4?!?! A few years of wandering in Europe sound pretty good sometimes. I sleep well on trains and somehow avoided the Taken scenario the whole year I lived in Germany at 19. The fact that my many amazing single friends aren't currently wandering in Europe and aren't any happier than I am is entirely beside the point. 
There are many reasons for said fantasy. I, for one, am a runner. I hate to admit it because it feels like I'm shaming myself, but perhaps this is the fate of a perfectionist. Relationships aren't all good or all bad. And I hate that! Growing up in an evangelical household (which included our home, church, and school) life was painted as a series of good decisions and bad decisions. Your future mate would be a "godly" guy - knight in shining armor stuff, and there was one RIGHT person who was specifically designed by God for me. And in the meantime, marry Jesus! He's a pretty great husband, right? Though, I think we all know, JC never married. I have literally participated in 2 fake wedding ceremonies to Jesus in my life. Spring this on a silly kid and at best, it might plant a seed of loving God in their heart or at least stop them from having premarital sex. Do this to a serious perfectionist and she'll end up breaking up with her incredibly safe, chaste boyfriend out of commitment to her new husband. (I broke up with that wonderful boy 3 TIMES, poor guy). 
Needless to say, these attempts at teaching us that TRUE LOVE WAITS also taught us that true love is perfect, pure, and safe. Perhaps that's true about agape type Jesus marriages. But relationships between two people who are honest and who have had crazy shit happen in their life together get messy. The beautiful thing I'm coming to terms with is that IT SHOULD. Messy is real. True love isn't pure (meaning without fault, blame, mess, mistakes, fantasies of no one talking to you before 9am, resentment, grief, and heartache). Perhaps we're still in the process of figuring out what true love looks like.  
I think my perfectionist mind thinks relationships are either pure (childhood standard) or a trap (stay no matter what). This is the curse of being a black and white thinker. It's one or the other. It's good or bad. It's wonderful or it's awful. Turns out, it's both and. It's good and it's bad. Because even I, perfectionist who wants to save everyone, who's been on a pedestal her whole life (we'll get to that later:) am both and. Wonderful and mean. Loving and resentful. Honest and self-serving. Committed and restless. I don't think this means something terrible about me, my life, or my marriage. I think this means I'm human.