Surviving Narcissism Jesse Blayne writes about thriving after marriage to a narcissist.

Dear Valentine,

I’ve been waiting for you.

I knew you’d come around.

I knew you’d get to a point where you’d finally see your own beauty.  I knew that chip on your shoulder would heal and the anger would dissipate.

There is so much of you to love.

Your tender, compassionate heart never lets you give up.  Your enthusiasm and belief that goodness will prevail is a contagious quality.  The wisdom acquired from making mistakes and the lessons learned gives you a depth of character that is your most attractive quality.

You are graceful but still able to be silly; patient as well as spontaneous; and ready to laugh at yourself because you stopped taking yourself seriously.

You know you still have a lot to learn, and you aren’t afraid to change course in order to learn more.

Your actions back up your words.  You’ve stated your priorities and you invest your time and energies in those priorities.  You are an inspiration because of the choices you’ve made.

You are beautiful when you run around in your leopard print bathrobe and fuzzy red socks in the morning, before a shower, sipping cold coffee because you are busy with kids, feeding the cat, answering emails, stoking the fire, figuring out what to make for dinner, and swapping loads between washer and dryer.

You are beautiful when, with a kind voice, you announce that you need a break, and escape to the couch with a book and a steaming cup of Earl Grey.

You are beautiful flying down a ski hill, laughing at your own failed attempts at trying to catch your kids.

You are beautiful when you give what you can, but hold back before reaching the point of having nothing left to give.

You are beautiful when you cry during mushy movies, at the end of a great book, or when you look on your kids’ artwork.

You are beautiful when you let your kids follow their passions, even if it means you have sprouting potatoes in glasses of water in the window sill, ski wax all over the garage floor, and paint brushes in every corner of the kitchen.

You are beautiful when you try and fail and own your mistakes with grace and humor.

You are most beautiful when you keep trying without letting resentment cloud your heart or disappointment keep your spirit hidden.

I love that even on a crappy day, you are capable of finding beauty in stormy skies, piles of clean folded laundry, and a dinner that manages to please three different appetites.

I love the person you are now,  but I also love knowing that you haven’t arrived yet.  I can’t wait to see who you become.

I love that you’ve chosen to be kind to yourself.  I love that you know what you are worth and what you deserve.

Anyone would be fortunate to call you Valentine.

Won’t you be mine?