To my Valentine

I'm not a romantic person. Far from it, actually. I don't write sonnets or love-dovey love notes. I don't expect them in return, either. I'm not really into public displays of affection. They make me a little uncomfortable. I definitely don't like talking about how much I love Michael - to anyone but him, of course. I even squirm a little when I read on my friends' blogs about how in love they and their husband are.

I need personal space. I hate people hanging on me - my husband and children included. I appreciate a kiss when Michael gets home from work, but when he puts his arms around me while I'm trying to cook dinner or clean up or something else, he gets the same response.

"Ok, enough. Get off of me."

I may say I'm Team Edward, but Edward in real life would DRIVE ME CRAZY. All that stroking of faces and careful fondling and caressing would make my skin crawl.

I think this aspect of my personality surprises many people. Me, the heart-on-your-sleeve, open-book girl. Me, the overly-sentimental, extremely-emotional girl. Me, the I-love-my-family-so-much-Mama-Bear girl.

This aspect of my personality has probably been a bit disappointing to Michael over the years. He has the potential to be a lot more lovey-dovey than me. But I think I've all but squashed it out of him. I'm sure it's buried, deep down in there, and at the first sign of weakness from me, it'll come bounding back, ready to smother me in all manner of affection.

But I know he doesn't doubt that I love him. And I don't doubt that he loves me. We just show it differently. I see it in the way he does the dishes for me. Every night. Even after a long day at work (which is getting more and more demanding as the months go on). I see it in the way he scoops up our girls every night when he gets home, and the look of excitement and adoration on their faces when he walks in the door. I see it when he calls our family together for family prayer, or leads us in reading our scriptures together. I see it as he places his hands on our heads to administer priesthood blessings. I see it in his ability to pick me up from my emotional meltdowns, time and time and time again.

He is loyal, fiercely loyal to me and the girls. He finds his joy here, at home, with our family. He has loved me through many hard times, times I think other men might not have been strong enough for.

And here I am, sentimentally gushing, pouring my heart out in all kinds of squirm-inducing ways, on my very public blog.

Happy Valentine's Day to my Valentine. I love you.