Picking Your Valentine

With Valentine’s Day being tomorrow, I thought I would write about picking the right partner.

When I was younger, my parents would always tell me that it’s important to marry a girl with the same religious and cultural background (Catholic and Croatian) and that she should come from a good family. The fact that Patty’s family was Portuguese was a real problem for them (She at least had the Catholic part going for her). Many of us have heard similar pieces of advice and, yes, although some of those words of wisdom have some merit to them, I’ve seen a lot of marriages fail even when both people come from good families and the same religion and culture. As a matter of fact, having a predefined expectation of a partner can get in the way of finding the right person.  I think the best way to pick the right partner is actually much simpler than culture or religion. All you really need to consider is this: Do you enjoy spending time with one another without needing other people around or without even doing anything too special? In other words, do you really enjoy just hanging out with this person? If the answer is yes, then that’s a great start. When everything else gets old, the desire to spend time with that person won’t.

If you ask the average adult how many boyfriends or how many girlfriends they’ve had throughout their life, you’ll hear a wide range of numbers, but if you ask the average person how many best friends they’ve had in their life, the answer is usually much smaller. In our adult lives, boyfriends and girlfriends come and go, but best friends are few and far between. Marry your best friend and your marriage stands an above average chance of not just ending in divorce, but blossoming into genuine happiness regardless of your cultures, religious beliefs or family backgrounds.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

To say Patty and I have known each other for a long time is a huge understatement. Above are our elementary school IDs.

Her shirt was a lot nicer than mine, and her hair properly styled, whereas I clearly never owned a comb and loved a comfortable T-shirt. But despite my shabby appearance, I won her over with my immature boyish ways, which also explains why I have forever retained the immaturity of that age.