Didn’t Your Mother Tell You?

They’re both the same. What are, you ask? Marriage and writing. They’re really very similar when you think about it. How? Let me count the ways.

First blush: The bright new thing that looks so great at first glance. Everything is rosy, exciting, easy. You can’t wait to experience more of that. It’s so heady, that feeling. You love everyone and they all love you back – or at least that’s the way it feels. All is well with the world.

The honeymoon: You’ve spent quality time together and decided this is going to work out. You’re committed to it, now, no turning back. You’re on a roll. It’s a little more serious, now, but it’s a good feeling to have a definite direction. You’ve run across a few glitches but so far they are minor, nothing that makes you want to quit, or even slow down. Life is good. Things are progressing as they should.

Settling in: Those glitches are more persistent, now, and harder to resolve. There’s tension, harsh words and feelings, resentment, frustration. You see flaws you never noticed before. You work through them one by one, but the daily grind isn’t what you pictured in the beginning. You still want things to work, but the bloom is off the rose, so to speak. It’s not so easy any more. It’s looking more like hard work. Problems arise that need to be resolved. But you resolve to stay the course. You’re no quitter. It will be worth it in the end. It always is. Isn’t that what your mother told you? “There will be days like this. You’ll get through it. Persevere.”

It’s hard work: The struggle just sometimes doesn’t feel worth the effort any more. It’s not going anywhere. You’re fed up. Walking away feels like the only option. You’ve had it. But that commitment you made. It’s telling you you haven’t given it your all. You need to give it another kick at the can. Maybe it can be salvaged. Maybe it can even be better than before.

Help: You reach out for help. Some of it is good, some dreadful, but you can’t handle it alone any longer so put up with the bad advice to glean some good out of it. Your heart’s not in the work anymore. You want to chuck it, to throw in the towel. But something stops you from tossing it all. It won’t let you go. So you put it on the shelf for a while. Just let it hang for a bit. Maybe you’ll get motivated again. It’s still there, cruising, but you try to ignore it – until you can’t any more.

Another crack at it: OK, back to the grindstone. Give it another shot. You have a new glimmer of a solution, a way to change it, maybe it will be better this time. You dust it off and see what the grime of lassitude hid from sight. That bit of shine you forgot was there. Maybe you can polish it and bring it back to life. It’s still got some redeeming qualities. Man, it’s tough but you’ve put too much into it now to give up.

The pendulum: It’s tough. Just when you think you have a handle on things again another insurmountable problem gets in the way. And another, and another. You solve that one, and then that one. Back and forth between optimism, the feeling that you’ve finally got over the hump and bam, you’re back in the trough. You keep struggling. It’s got to work. You’ve put too much into it, now.

The realization: Time goes by. One day you look back and see that you’ve actually accomplished a lot. The past doesn’t look as bad as it felt at the time. Actually, there were a lot of great moments when things came together. It’s looking like the effort is worth it.

The dénouement: You see it all now, what you learned, what you worked for, what you’ve gained. It’s all there behind you. There is satisfaction in knowing you stuck with it. You are proud of the result, proud of all that hard work, the ‘sturm und drang’, even the pain of losing some things and discarding others. It’s made the final outcome better, more solid, ironed out the lumpy parts. Now you can see enough to tie up those loose ends and put a permanent binding on it. It’s a little shabbier than that bright idea you began with, but it has more substance, more weight somehow. It’s better than you thought –actually, it’s darn good. You smile, content, and give it an affectionate pat.

Author: Yvonne Hertzberger

Yvonne Hertzberger is a native of the Netherlands who immigrated to Canada in 1950. She is an alumna of The University of Waterloo, with degrees in psychology and Sociology. Her Fantasy trilogy, ‘Earth’s Pendulum’ has been well received. Learn more about Yvonne at her blog and her Amazon author page. View all posts by Yvonne Hertzberger