Why I Want You to Call Her My Wife
Casey and I tied the knot on October 17! In case you missed it, the “Here Come the Brides” series followed our adventures to the aisle.
Today’s post is about why I call the woman I am married to my wife — and why you should too.
Four months married, and I called her my wife — clearly and proudly — to the man behind the counter. But I guess he wouldn’t hear me. When it was his turn to name the woman I have pledged my life’s loyalty and love to, he stumbled for the words.
After a beat, just enough time to let the discomfort squirm across his face, he fetched a try — “significant other.” And she is this; he’s not wrong. She is a significant other person in my life, one for whom I am somehow able to make room beside — even before — my own self. But that phrase fails in its unspecificity; my children are most assuredly significant others of mine too.
The person I have married is significant, yes, but she is other — set apart from all else. The truest phrase for this woman is “my wife.” The person whom I take with eyes wide open, without demand for alteration. Mine. The woman who has so taken me. Wife.
And I know all this is new in our societal lexicon; I can forgive a failed effort made in awkward earnest. But we have a certificate stamped by the state, and we have a blessing bestowed by a saint. So I will ask you not to misspeak.
If you feel the discomfort creep up to your face, let it come — my wife says discomfort is how we grow. But, please, remember to let it go. Try to hear past it, and try to listen. Because when I use words, I use them with care. She is my significant other, my partner, my lover, my friend. And I call her the sum of all this: My wife.
Photo Credits: Sarah & Ben (sarahben.com)