Marriage and Wildness

I am a seasoned wife. For 18 whole days, I’ve been spending my days in matrimonial bliss. My reality of marriage has been spent in Costa Rica, trekking through cloud forests, kissing under waterfalls, ziplining over hundreds of feet of jungle, lounging by la playa with pina coladas served in pineapples in hand(s)…

Okay, the reality of what’s to come in my marriage isn’t so telling in the past (not-even) three weeks in which we’ve had nothing to worry about. But, even though I am certain this man and I will make a life we love together, and I believe in all of who he is, there are things I’ve discovered.

Marriage and wildness. If you ask my husband, he will say I am the wild one. Wild, in the sense that I cannot be told what to do, you cannot predict me all the time, I will help him breathe fresh air. In the wild, with no distractions, we get to focus on us.

And I for one, get to learn about his relationship with my wildness.

First, allow me to say a word about who I am. It’s important- vital even- to this story.

I crave adventure. Adventure, to me, is that every day is a mystery. It’s a treat that I’m left to open, a million pieces of Scotch tape, torn off with every moment, only to reveal the big picture at the end of the day. The satisfaction that, when your head hits the pillow, you nearly fall asleep smiling and exhausted, as you’ve used your given day fully. And you know: in the morning, you get to delight the sun again.

I love doing things. This- this doing things I love- makes me feel more complete.

Living off the grid appeals to me, not only to get away from superficial people, crazy relatives (…not that I have any…), and the grind of the daily American life of getting ahead. But it’s appealing in that we should save our world, as hipty-dipty as that sounds. It’s appealing to work hard for what you have, and leave what you don’t need.

By having less, I feel that there is a way I can have more.

My husband, no offense because I love him dearly, but by contrast, has traveled more by plane than me. Simply put, his family had more money than mine. He likes nice things, and will dip deep down into his wallet to have them. He needs help in a lot of ways that he doesn’t actually need help. For instance, he asks me to “come here for a second,” or “come help me real quick,” all the time. All. The. Time. Like, he has one plate and his utensils on the plate, and he knows I have a stack of dishes, but, “Can you open the door for me?” This drives me crazy, but also I love it because it’s something I would miss if he ignored me. A girl likes to feel needed, even in moments of (slight) frustration.

And that’s the thing, too: my new hubby is the most patient man on the planet. I don’t know why or how he keeps so sane with me, but he chooses to laugh off moments I get frazzled. He chooses to stay and find out more and love me. To me, this is one of my favorite qualities of him. I could learn so much from him.

Back to the story.

The real lesson in wildness is when I learned about my marriage, sacrifice, and compromise.

So, this was our honeymoon. But I didn’t want to go to a resort and stay put. Because I crave adventure, I wanted to go to multiple areas of the country and do things. I convinced him to use AirBnB and rent private homes. One, it was typically less expensive than a hotel. Two, we got to live where the people of Costa Rica lived. And three, we have always had great experiences with our AirBnb hosts and choices.

Our first location in the mountains was amazing. Big glass windows and a back porch allowing us to view nature and wildlife up close. We were given nectar water to attract hummingbirds and delighted in seeing them every day. I claimed the blue one as “mine,” because I’m mature and selfless like that.

When we left, we were a little sad, but we had a reservation at the beach with a new host.

We drove through the worst streets of Costa Rica- our guide book even said so. Those dirt, bumpy roads left your abdomen sore from trying to navigate the curves and ups and downs with a straight posture. He would go over a bump on my side and I’d nearly hit my head on the ceiling. “Oops, I’ll take a bump over on this side to keep it even,” he would say. Then, he would pay himself back. Love, sacrifice.

When we got there (up, up a winding dirt road), we gazed out at our view- spectacular. We overlooked the jungle leading to the beach and the Pacific Ocean, with the mountains to the north of us. “Just lock the gate, the horses like to come up and eat our grass.” Okay, noted, we’re in the wild.

The house itself was modest, but that was expected at this point. It had an outdoor kitchen, back porch and upstairs loft bedroom. Oh, and no air conditioning with solar power.

Night one came and went and we discussed how it was uncomfortable at first, but then not so bad. The second night, at about midnight, our fans shut off. In the morning, we asked our host about it. “You’ve drained the solar power. You can’t sleep with fans on.” Uhhh… My husband looked at me out of the side of his eyes to see my reaction. I didn’t want to look at him because I knew what he was feeling at the sound of that from our host. Maybe it will be cooler tonight, I assured him. He nodded, not trusting that it would be, but because I kind of loved it there a little bit.

We typically didn’t spend a lot of time at the residences. There was so much more to see- the beaches, ziplining, ranforest, hiking, surfing… but we especially didn’t want to here because of the discomfort.

I kept telling him, “I’m so sorry. I feel terrible.” We were to spend seven nights here. We were regretting it on day two. Our honeymoon.

That morning, I looked up more AirBnB’s in another part of the country we have heard was also spectacular. I searched the filters “Air Conditioning, Entire Home” and found one. We bit the money we paid in advance to this host and, really without telling him, we left on day three. Sacrifice (sleeping in the heat on your honeymoon), and compromise (eating some money out of love for your luxe husband).

Spending time in this new town was the best decision of the trip. We had a lot of adventure, great food, awesome memories, and air conditioning.

Our hosts were American, who moved to Costa Rica permanently. They recommended many places for us to eat and visit, and we took them up on most of them. They were quite American, most of them.

We watched the sunset every single night. We scoped out places we could eat or have a cocktail to watch it go down, or set up at our place just in time to watch the sun sink into the water. Every time I would smile, thinking, “What a good day for the sun, see you tomorrow.” Wildness tamed.

Once, we were suggested a hotel bar a few miles away to watch another glorious sunset. It ended up being a Marriott Resort community with a huge marina with enormous yachts. This is where my husband began to drool. “We should see how much it is to stay here,” he said. No. Compromise. It ended up being over $300 per night. We had dinner, he ogled over the boats, and we left.

We went on a hike with the largest waterfall in Costa Rica at the end. The hike itself was sketchy, with rope railings and tilted ladders to climb. But we only saw two people within the whole four hours we were out there and we were handsomely rewarded in a beautiful waterfall spectacle. We took some pictures together with my handy Selfie-Stick. Then he said, “Okay, I’m not going any further.”

“I am!” I said.

I navigated down the rocks further and placed myself within feet of the roaring waterfall, waiting for a picture. He took a couple.

“Okay, you stay there. I’ll be right back. I’m gonna go up further to get your picture.”

“HURRY!” I kept yelling. I was suddenly cold and getting drenched with mist, and I couldn’t even see where he went. “HURRY!” There he was. Waving at me. Hiking further, telling me to wait there for more pictures. “HURRY!” He was not hurrying.

Finally, hoping the photos were worth it, I left, climbing up the slippery boulders, scratching my legs and muddying my body, I was up. “That was the most disappointed I’ve been at you. You just left me there and I didn’t know where you were, and you took your time while I was cold and wet down there. Then I couldn’t get out…”

“Want to see the pictures?” he asked. Okay. Mr. Patient, Mr. Loving, just rescue me from myself.

“Where do you think the closest gas station is, huh?” These questions, the ones I had no idea the answer to, began driving me bonkers. Because he was looking for a response. I had never driven those streets, or have been to Costa Rica, he knew this. But he would get gas and ask me, “Do they take credit card?” I just. Don’t. Know. Later, I found myself asking the same questions but was met with his patience.

“What do you think is at the end of this trail?” I’d ask. “I don’t know, maybe a waterfall!” The man would entertain my questions. His marriage, committed to my wildness.

There are many things I don't know and will never be able to foresee in this life, our marriage, together. I am ready for discovery with my life partner, my new husband and the person who nourishes the wild, the spirit in me.

In my vows, I told him "I will always say yes to adventures with you, and I promise life will never be boring."

He said, "I do."

We're here to be wild.

#travel #marriage #adventure #love #wild