I’m about to crush lots of hopes and dreams.
And I’m just so excited about it.
Remember when you were in college and you made a list about the qualities that you wanted in your future husband?
You did this.
You know how I know?
Because I did it, my roommate did it and anyone else who was in Neverdaters – Navigators (my roommate) or Campus Crusade for Couples (myself) did it.
Side note – If anyone could tell me what they call people from Intervarsity or Fellowship of Christian Athletes I would love that.
Come friends, hold my hand as we walk down the deep dark path of our future husband lists together.
I found my list and I made my roommate find hers. Mine was created first semester of my junior year (correlated with my recent return from a Cru summer project sans boyfriend). My roommate’s was created second semester freshman year. She was in a sorority with a lot of Nav ladies. As a preschool is a breeding ground for disease, so too is a sorority house full of Christian women making lists about their future husbands.
The older I’ve gotten the more ridiculous I find my list.
I know, it’s hard.
I’m actually grimacing as I write. I REMEMBER how excited I was about my perfect list. At least I didn’t title mine “Prince Charming” (Cough … roomy … cough).
But I did have some qualifications that, looking back I think, “What the heck was I doing? It’s like I’m waiting for the second coming of Christ because only Jesus meets a lot of these . . . ”
No I didn’t put “must have died and then rose again on the third day,” but I did put “Is intelligent yet socially comfortable.” I just . . . that seems like a lot to ask . . .
Okay, before I go on, I will give you that having some “standards” are good. Like I don’t think I could ever date someone that didn’t laugh at my jokes, talk in a Jersey accent with me when we’re watching Say Yes To The Dress, or dance like a fool in the kitchen (because that is where most foolish dancing happens).
But there are some “standards” that we might need to let go of.
If you have one of these on your list, it may be time to drop it.
- Specific height requirements. I get this. I’m 5’10’” . . . If I was super specific I would set a 6’3” minimum. What can I say? I like wearing heels. I’ve released that though. My future spouse is just going to have to not care that I tower over him occasionally. You think I’m going to stop wearing heels for you? Did FDR stop being president just because he had polio?
- Ability to cook. At this point we’re going against the masculine genetic code. Sure there are some famous guy chefs, but that’s literally like .00000067% of the population. That’s why rom-coms where the guy can cook are so popular. It’s a rarity, hardly ever found in the wild.
- Having very specific athletic talents. On my list was a fantastic skier. I’ve recently added Franchised NFL Quarterback. Neither of these looks likely.
- A great dresser. I’ve just realized this: guys who are great dressers have women who dress them. Not everyone is going to look like my favorite J.Crew model upon first meeting. They will after like three months of our courtship . . . you wanna date me? Get ready to wear some coral pants.
- The voice of an angel. A la season 1 of Glee and Rachel and Jesse’s relationship, I’d like my future spouse and I to just “sing it out” if we’re ever in a fight. I’d take a voice like Ed Sheeran, John Mayer, Ray LaMontagne or James Morrison, because in the words of Paula Dean, “it’s like butter, and mayonnaise.”
- Scottish. Braveheart is my favorite movie. I would like the groomsmen in my wedding to wear kilts. I would also like to be marched down the aisle to the sound of a bagpipe. Did I mention that I also believe in Unicorns and think area 51 is real?
My friends, I leave you with a little piece of fantastic Christian subculture.