I used to think it was such a shallow saying, used by entitled women everywhere who felt the need to be pampered and spoilt and their every whims fulfilled. Some sexist bull to make them feel superior to men.
But after witnessing the marriages of friends and strangers, I realized that there is truth in those words.
A wife is the garden of the man she has married, she is the flower that blooms under love and care, the tree that bears sweet fruit and shelter. Neglected and abandoned, the flower wilts away, the fruits turn sour and no man could say he is happy if his home is a wasteland of weeds.
It is the same the other way around and in everything you do – you simply reap what you sow. If you want great friendships, you must cultivate them. If you want a successful business, you must commit to your work. Why should love be any different?
Many people simply assume that real love is easy but it’s not – love is the hardest thing we do. Women need to be nurtured and men need to be left alone but men have a tendency to ignore their wives and women are prone to nagging. We’re all doomed from the beginning but that’s what makes love so worthwhile.
The love stories that stand the test of time are testaments of undying love and you’ll soon realize that nobody is looking for the perfection of having someone who can make us happy without even trying, who knows us so well it’s like they can read our mind, no. We want someone who is able to stick it out through thick and thin, come hell or high water.
Our problem is that our love is only as perfect as we are. It is hard to stand strong when all you want to do is throw in the towel, when you see him ignoring the kids in favor of his mobile phone or when all you want is a bit of attention and all he does is give you half of his heart. It is hard when you’re trying to communicate but the words don’t add up and you just can’t seem to agree to disagree. It is hard when he sighs that patronizing sigh and look at you as though you are a particularly petulant child.
It is not easy to love because we are only human but everyone insists on believing that as long as you have love, everything will fall neatly into place, like a fairytale come to life. Magic made real. Perfection without effort. But that is a lie, the root of grief, because you learn to expect one thing when reality is another entity. Love is not a trophy you win and put in a cabinet to display. It is a living thing that requires a nurturing heart. Yet we have been taught otherwise.
Just look at the love we give: we complain when we sacrifice, we draw comparisons, we want the fruit without the labor and then we cry about it when it doesn’t work out.