I knew that I wasn’t M’s first relationship. I absolutely even knew about her, that she had been before me. But seeing her picture was unsettling. Indeed, I am still unsettled.
Many women complain their partner has a “type” and they noticed how similar they were to other partners, wonder if their individuality is important. What shook me was how dissimilar we are. Where she is lanky and thin, I curvy with bust. While she is carefully groomed, I am thrown together on the way to my next big experience.
I wondered if M, who was clearly capable of attraction to this opposite woman, ever regretted his marriage to me. I was shocked to see that the picture was taken at a time so close to when we would first meet. I felt myself buckling as I consider that he would be happy with a me that was…less, perhaps more cluttered, but definitely less.
He is not confrontational, doesn’t appreciate when I wake him with the lap top to ask him about it and explain these feelings. But then, in the most generous way, he holds me and tells me, “I didn’t know what I wanted until I found you.”
And for a moment I feel sure that while I am not first, I take first place.