I am really terrible at keeping secrets. You can tell within seconds if I have something to hide by the look on my face. If it’s a good surprise, I will probably tell you within hours of planning it for you, because I am just too excited. My husband, however, is brilliant at it. His poker face is well-practiced. I think he probably even manages to keep things secret from himself—he’s so good.
For our first Valentine’s Day there were flights booked to Milan. (Way to raise my expectations from the start!) A few years later he’d booked a cottage in the French countryside, close to a Benedictine abbey I’d been talking non-stop about wanting to visit. This past November he finally revealed that he had tickets for us to see U2 in concert here in London—tickets he’d bought in the Spring before we even knew we’d be moving here.
I love being surprised by him. I love the anticipation of getting in the car with no idea of the destination. It’s not scary or uncomfortable because I am confident of his love, I know heknows me, will be taking me somewhere good. And that even if what he’s planned for us is a little out of my comfort zone, it’s probably a challenge he knows I can rise to because he knows me.
There’s an intimacy in the unknowing. There’s a beautiful vulnerability in putting your trust entirely in the person guiding you.
We’re telling love stories at She Loves this month, and this is mine, about how my secret-keeping husband teaches me about trust. Head over there to read the rest of the post…