Kwame has a good heart. That’s one of the things that drew me to him. He is the kind of man who will give everything to see someone he loves happy. At the time I met him, I was lost. I was trying to find myself. I was trying to prove to the world that I am worthy of love and acceptance. See, loving the wrong man can damage a girl’s view of herself to the extent that when she finally meets the right man, she would keep him at arm’s length. That’s what I did to Kwame. I treated him as if he was Efo, coming back to finish me completely.

Efo was my last stop when it came to men. He was the first man I gave myself to. And I told myself that he would be the last. With the way he loved God, I didn’t think he was capable of hurting a fly. I saw him as someone who had the hand of God on his life so I rarely questioned him. He made the decisions in the relationship and I went along with it. It was fine with me, really. I was, after all, raised to be a traditional woman. A man leads and I follow. That’s what my father taught me.

So I followed Efo with my heart as he planned a beautiful future for us. He painted a picture so real that I lived in it. I built my entire life around him and the life he promised me. It didn’t even matter to me that the sex was bad. I wanted him to be my husband. He had nothing. Not even a diploma but I was in love so I stood by him.

Two years into our relationship things started getting better for him. He got a job that paid him so well he bought a car. After he got the car he became a different person. He got himself another girlfriend and dumped me in the most painful way possible. I almost lost my mind. I even became suicidal. It wasn’t easy to get over him but I did.

They say what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. In my case it was, what doesn’t kill you makes you paranoid. Efo’s betrayal became the standard by which I judged all men. A man would be talking to me and I would think, “Everything he is saying is a lie. He just wants to break my heart.” I couldn’t bring myself to be interested in anyone until I met Ekow.

Ekow had all the qualities of the kind of man I wanted to marry. He also said I was his ideal wife material. We spent a lot of time talking about the kind of life we would build. At that time too I had gotten to an age where my relatives expected me to get married or at least have someone I intend to settle down with. Ekow was right there for the taking but I couldn’t bring myself to accept his proposal. My heart just didn’t agree with him.

I tried my best to get my heart to accept him but it just wasn’t working. What made things even more difficult for me was when he told me, “You should know that if you agree to marry me, we’ll only have thirty guests at our wedding.” He knew that I come from a big family but that didn’t matter to him. I have eight sisters. Four of them combined with their children add up to twenty people. Let’s not forget my brothers, my parents, and my friends. I told him his guest expectations were unrealistic for me but he wouldn’t listen. So I turned down his proposal and moved on.

I was posted to a different region to work when I met Kwame. I wasn’t looking for love, I just wanted to build my career. So when I met him I only saw him as a potential friend. He is someone who is naturally nice so he always treated me with kindness. It made me uncomfortable at first. I felt he was only interested in getting close to me so he could break my heart. However, he didn’t give up.

He always checked up on me. Sometimes he would bring me gifts. There were times when he would joke that I should cook for him. I was still the traditional woman my father raised me to be but I was also guarded. I didn’t want him to think I was a cook because I am a woman. So I always told him, “I don’t cook for men. If you are hungry, go and cook your own food. If you visit me and I have food I will give you. But don’t ask me to cook for you.” This is a man who grew up around women who took care of his every need. My stand on gender roles was new to him but he was not deterred.

He stuck around. He asked a lot of questions. He sought to understand me better so he wouldn’t presume he knows me. It was at that point that I started warming up to him. Tell me, what is more attractive than a man who is willing to evolve? We became so close that I saw him almost every day. Everything showed he was interested in me but he hadn’t proposed yet. I was also interested in him but I didn’t say anything.

One day he came to visit me and we talked late into the night. When he was leaving, I opened my arms to hug him but he kissed me instead. Things got heated after that. We ended up getting intimate. He was so happy that it happened, but all I felt was regret. “How can you sleep with a man who is not your boyfriend? He hasn’t even said he loves you,” I berated myself. I felt he wouldn’t take me seriously. So I decided not to see him anymore.

However, Kwame wouldn’t let me hide from him. He came to see me again. This time around, he was holding his heart in his hands. By that I mean, he brought me cupcakes and read me poetry. He asked me, “Will you be the queen of this heart of mine?” I was so touched that I cried. I thought I had messed it up by sleeping with him too soon but I was wrong. Although he was raised in a traditional society, he is a modern man.

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One year after I accepted his proposal, we got married. Life after marriage has been pretty interesting. I’m learning new things about myself just as I am learning new things about him. Some of these lessons, I didn’t know before we got married. I have not been medically diagnosed but I think I have OCD. I am a clean freak. I am always cleaning and mopping. My husband is the kind of man who would walk all over a floor I had just mopped with muddy boots. The old me would have gotten angry and thrown a fit every time he did that. However, I had to learn to be patient with him and accommodate his shortcomings.

Before we got married, the elders in my family advised me on the things to do to keep my husband from straying from me. “Cook for him, wash his clothes, give him all the sex he wants, and feed his ego.” When I got into the marriage, I realized Kwame doesn’t care about any of those things. I try to be the wife I was raised to be, but he reminds me every day that our marriage is about us. We do what works for us. I cook and he cooks too. I do the laundry and so does he. I work and earn my own money but he takes care of the bills.

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I was also advised that the woman is the peacemaker in the home. So I entered the marriage already burdened with the responsibility that the success of our marriage depends on me. Thankfully, Kwame proved me wrong once again. He is the peacemaker in our home. Whenever we get into a fight, he wouldn’t rest until we resolve it. Marriage requires work from both parties not just the woman. That’s one thing I know now.

Sometimes the voices in my head tell me that I am doing it wrong. “This is not the way a woman should behave.” However, his voice is strong enough to silence those voices. He has proven himself to be the best partner I could ever ask for. I am glad that I went through everything I did to end up with the man I am meant to be with.