My wife is in a wheelchair. She was already like that when I married her. My friends asked why I would marry someone like that. My answer was, “Is she not a human being because she’s like that?”

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My parents also wondered why. My brother came close to me and asked, “I know she is well-educated, but what else? Are you sure you can be with her forever?”

All those who said our love wasn’t realistic were silenced on the day of our wedding. They watched as we got married happily and went on to live together.

We’ve been married for eight years, and we still share the same happiness, safety, and care for each other. When she’s not home, I know exactly where she could be, even if she hasn’t told me, just as she knows the same about me.

A few days ago, I looked at her and smiled. I realized I had lied to the world about the reason I married her. Yes, I was ready to go on the marital journey with her, but the real reason I chose her, even she doesn’t know.

Twice, I came close to death because of a woman. Each time, the pain felt the same.

My first love and I dated for three years. I invested time, love, and care, and of course, money. She got pregnant and mentioned two names as possible fathers. My name wasn’t one of them. Yet I was the one who would have accepted the pregnancy without question.

The men she mentioned didn’t accept responsibility. While my heart was breaking and I was even thinking of ending my life, she was out there fighting with men who wanted nothing to do with her pregnancy. She told me, “I liked you, but I didn’t believe you were the one.”

Truly, the pregnancy wasn’t mine. When the issue went to court, they had to conduct a DNA test to find the child’s father.

Four years later, I was in love with another woman.

Anytime I visited her, her neighbors made funny faces at me. I didn’t understand why. For a whole year, it went on like that until one guy finally told me that different cars brought her home and picked her up. I didn’t even own a car.

One night, I went to her doorstep to monitor things. At midnight, a car dropped her off. She was wearing a straight dress, with her panties tucked inside her bag. You can imagine the rest.

These two experiences taught me to love less and fear women.

But then my wife came along. I pushed her wheelchair, and she was thankful. We built a friendship, and eventually, I fell in love with her. Now, here’s the real reason I married her…

I told myself, “She’s in a wheelchair. She can’t hop from one car to another. She can’t get pregnant for another man. She can’t go far unless I push her wheels. That means I will always be there wherever she goes. She can’t break me the way others did.”

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It wasn’t about love at first. It was about safety. Not those silly butterflies in the stomach, but ease. Comfort. Assurance.

So far, so good. We have a family we can be proud of. We have more trust than we even need, a safety net to catch us when we fall.

If this isn’t love, then what is?

We are happy—happiness without heartbreak.

—Mansford

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