How I knew that I was in Love

by - Sunday, February 14, 2016

Seeing as it's Valentines Day I thought I would reflect on a little ol' feeling called Love. In October 2015, I married my soul mate. Everyone always asks, how do you know when you’re in love and how do I know that Maz is the one. And if I am honest, I don’t think I knew that he was the one, not at first. It just felt right. He made me happy. He was kind, thoughtful and just a genuine person. There wasn’t anything that I didn’t like.
My previous relationships - although none were really serious or long-term – were all a little crazy. I was so used to dating guys that thought they were “bad boys” or always made me second best. But I suppose when you are growing up, it’s all a learning curve. At the time, I didn’t know howI should be treated or what a good relationship looks like. I was used to being stood up and ignored by boyfriends and being cheated on seemed to be normal. Which is why I think my relationship with Maz surprised me. After having my heart broken so many times and after realising in 2009 that I didn’t want to keep getting hurt, I stopped being the girl that guys walk all over and stop being second best. I deserved more.

I had always desired to have a relationship like my parents, my mum met my dad at a young age and started dating when she was 16. They fell in love. Got married and had children. Made a home and a family. Supported each other, loved each other and stayed strong throughout. I still love the way my dad looks at my mum when she’s not noticing, he smiles when she’s doing her hair and make-up and always makes an effort to spend quality time together despite having a challenging job, and that’s what I had wanted, I wanted a real relationship, with someone who treated me like my dad treats my mum. So I decided to stop dating. Sure I went on dates with guys but I wasn’t actively looking, and I didn’t care that I didn’t have a boyfriend or had never had a serious relationship. I just wanted to be happy, so I started looking out for número uno.
It was late 2009 when I had started my first proper job. With a proper salaried wage, with proper job prospects. After finishing my training, I had moved up to my little desk within the team and opposite me was an annoying male who had scary looking eyebrows. He was a cocky character who had this strange swag about it. Yes I know, sounds similar to the other losers that I had dated but stay with me. I admit, when me and Maz first met, he irritated me. He used to throw things at me, hide toys with sensors that made noises when I moved around my desk and he was just really mean.
I have always been one to have “good banter” and that’s probably from me growing up being friends with lads more than girls, so I tried to brush off whatever he was saying. Looking back, he was right. Some of my outfit choices were not the best. And wearing big false eyelashes and attempting to put on fake than that was way too dark for my porcelain skin was not a good look, but for whatever reason, I still got on with him.
I never thought that I had feelings for him, it was only after he was in hospital for a few weeks that I wanted to see how he was. After visiting him in hospital with a few other friends we started to get on, being someone that really struggles with compliments or knowing signs I didn’t really click. After he was discharged, in his cheeky cocky style he asked me on a date, and I was strangely surprised that I got butterflies and wanted to say yes. So off we went on a date.
I am not going to go through all the details of the date but we got on. Really well. And I think it helped knowing him beforehand but he was a completely different to the cheeky chappy that he was in work. He was kind. Honest. Really complimentary. Still cheeky but genuine. You could tell he had a good heart. So we carried on dating. If I am honest I don’t know how it evolved into a relationship, as it just worked so we kept seeing where things went. And after a few months, he nervously said those three magical words and it only felt natural to say them back. I had never felt love before or felt the need to say it, but maybe you don’t feel love? You just know what isn’t love, as my previous relationships had never felt like this. I was happy. I really enjoyed spending time with Maz. We created memories. He was a good egg. He was honest, kind and treated me like no other guy had treated me before. He spoilt me with presents. He made me have butterflies all the time. I missed him when I wasn’t with him and he just made me smile.  
I knew that I was happy, and I couldn’t picture my life with anyone else. Why would I want anyone else? To me, Maz was perfect and was the only person I would want to be with. Our relationship was natural, exciting and was all I had dreamt of. We had spent so much time together in the first 6 months, our families had met, and we had met parents. It just worked. Our relationship didn’t feel only 6 months.
In 2012 we bought our first home, but it was at the end of 2012/start of 2013 that I think really opened my eyes to how much meant to me. If you had read my Sixty-Five Roses post you’ll know that Maz was in hospital for most of the year, without dabbling into too much detail, Maz has Cystic Fibrosis and caught pneumonia in January 2013. Seeing how poorly he was worried the heck out of me and made me so upset. Maz in an extremely vulnerable and weak state broke my heart. It wasn’t a pain I had ever experienced before. Not knowing whether Maz was going to make it through the year was devastating. I felt broken, the pain in my heart and stomach when I cried hurt like nothing I could ever describe. And that’s when I knew, I didn’t just love Maz. I was in love with him. He was my whole world and the most important person in my life. He completed me and I just knew that we had to fight.
Maz’s health had improved and towards the end of 2013 when he was on a break from being in hospital, he proposed. And I was the happiest girl in the world. Undoubtedly I said yes. And he got better and eventually was discharged from hospital later that year to spend Christmas at home. The next year was spent planning our wedding, and in 2015, after 5 years of being together I married the love of my life. And although the day didn’t go to plan and everything wasn’t exactly what I had wanted. It was perfect. It was us. And at the end of it all, we are married.
So many people ask me how does it feel? Are you not too young to be married? And my response is, I feel the same. Because it has always felt right. We just click and he was the missing piece of the puzzle. Marriage life doesn’t change you, it’s a commitment between you both and it just tells the world that you can take on anything, as long as you’re together. And I don’t feel too young, although I am only 25, I’d like to think that I am mature for my age. There is no set age to get married, whether you are 16 or 76, if it feels right, if you’re in love and it makes you happy then go for it.
I don’t know if this post really helps explain how I knew that I was in love. Because truthfully, I don’t think you can describe being in love. But I can say that knowing that I didn’t want to live my life without Maz by my side, and knowing how it might feel that I could lose him, made me realise that he was the one. He will always be my one.

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