The Comparison Game | Social Media and Marriage

Written with love, by Karley Kiker

Oh, man. This is a topic I’ve wanted to touch on for quite some time—almost as much as the selfishness subject—but honestly, I’ve felt a little guilty about doing so because I’m so far from perfection in this area. Then I realized that the lack of perfection is kind of what this whole article is going to be about. So let’s just dive on in.

I frequently struggle with the word “enough” because I don’t feel like I have it. Enough time to accomplish everything on my to-do list. Enough energy to make dinner after working all day. Enough motivation to go to the gym. Enough creativity left in the tank to innovate. Enough emotional capacity to meet the needs of my husband. I could go on and on, but that’s enough “enough” to make my point.

We live in a world of busy-ness and go-go-go, and it’s easy to arrive at a point of exhaustion. To make matters worse, we’re living in an unprecedented time of comparison. The magazine ads and the Victoria’s Secret Fashion Shows and the “I only wear mascara and Chapstick to look this good” celebrity interviews are still out there, and can still trigger feelings of inadequacy. But, courtesy of social media, it’s also super easy to start measuring ourselves up against our friends and followers (of the real life and Facebook/Instagram variety). At least for me it is, anyway.

Have you ever seen a friend post a picture of beautiful flowers from her husband and felt a little bit sick about it? I have. Have you ever looked at pictures of another couple on some exotic vacation and felt jealous of how cool their trip looked? I have. Have you ever been in the middle of a fight with your husband and posted a picture of the two of you smiling and laughing, because showing the world a picture of you at your happiest is easier than actually dealing directly with your spouse when you’re both at your worst? I have.

Social media can be used for lots of good things, like forming new connections and discovering new inspirations. But if not used with caution, it can also creative a very negative internal narrative that goes something like this:

“Wow, their new house is gorgeous. I’m so sick of our apartment.”

“It seems like they go out all the time. We haven’t had a date night in three weeks.”

“They look so happy. I can’t remember the last time we laughed together.”

Logging in to Instagram might feel like an escape sometimes, but it can quickly turn into a prison of doubt, despair, and heart hunger if we don’t guard ourselves—and our relationships—against comparison.

In my mind I know that perfection is an absolute illusion, but it’s hard to remember the truth of that statement when I’m surrounded by a pile of laundry that’s three loads high and Instagram is showing me square after square of someone else’s perfectly-kept living room. In this particular scenario, I could: A.) Start feeling really bad about my housekeeping abilities. B.) Start feeling really resentful of the fact that my husband is out playing basketball while I’m drowning in the chaos of our home. C.) Stop looking at Instagram and start giving thanks for everything good that’s right in front of me.

I’m not going to lie to you guys—I’ve chosen options A and B more times than I’d care to admit. But I’m committed to pursuing C. I’m going to give myself and my husband the gift of caring more about what’s really happening between us than how we look to other people. My likes might start to drop as I continue to log off and just live life, but you know what? I think our love will grow. And that’s a trade I’ll take any day.

Travel and Trust | Traveling as a Team Part 2

Written with love, by Karley Kiker

Last week I told you guys about the first trip Taylor and I ever took together: a three-day “learning experience” in San Antonio to celebrate our first anniversary. Despite the fact that not everything went according to plan (AKA my attitude completely fell apart and I ended up having to ask for forgiveness more than once), it didn’t take long for us to start dreaming about our next adventure together...a backpacking trip to Seattle, Vancouver, and Victoria!

By the time our second trip rolled around, Taylor had a better understanding of the things I like to do while traveling (eat at unique restaurants, browse artsy shops and museums, sip a latte or six from a local coffee shop), and vice versa (stock the kitchen with items from a local market, then spend the rest of our time and money on hiking, exploring, and otherwise adventuring). And so I decided to do something that’s usually pretty hard for a self-proclaimed control freak: I trusted him.

Sure, I sketched a vague outline of a few things I’d like to see and do in each location. Beyond that, I was completely and entirely dependent on Taylor’s lead. He’s done substantial traveling, isn’t afraid of public transportation, and is 100% more comfortable (and attractive) wearing a backpack than me. It just made sense to turn everything over into his hands. So I did.

Taylor booked our airfare, our Amtrak seats, our ferry rides, and our clipper trip. Taylor bought our bus passes. He tracked each stop on Google Maps to make sure that we got off at the right location. He researched every city we visited and pre-planned day trips he knew I would enjoy.

As for me? I didn’t know which way we were going, what method of transportation we were taking, which bus stop to wait at, or what activity we’d be doing when we arrived. I didn’t book, check in, check out, route, map, or tip. I just went. I just woke up in the morning, got dressed, and walked out the door with full confidence that good things were ahead. I trusted Taylor because he’s done this before. I trusted him because he knows me—what I like and what I don’t. I trusted him because he has my best in mind, he wants to provide for me, and he always keeps me safe no matter where we go.

It wasn’t until after returning home from our trip that the following question hit me: If I can trust the details of so many unknowns to Taylor, why do I struggle to trust the plans of God?

Maybe you guys can relate to this, or maybe you can't. But right after we got married, I started having these phantom fears about losing Taylor. If I didn't hear from him after he got off work, for instance, I feared he had been in a car accident. Or sometimes I would worry about losing him in other ways...like when we get older, if maybe I won't be “enough” for him anymore. Scary thoughts, and also unfair ones considering the fact that they have nothing to do with reality!

The truth is that the Lord has provided for me in every season. He has loved me with an everlasting love. He has given me the gift of a husband who leads our family well. And yet I fear. I grasp at control as if the future is something I can predict, hold, and manipulate. Too often I lock my spine and tighten my shoulders and brace myself for continued battle with a thousand “what-if” questions that only serve to steal my joy in this present moment...and sometimes, Taylor’s too.

But I want to grow; in my relationship with God and my relationship with Taylor. I want to trust; in the heart of my Savior and the heart of my husband. So every dollar we spent on our trip to Seattle, Vancouver, and Victoria was worth it as this realization poured through me: Taylor and I don’t have to know exactly where we’re going or how we’re going to get there. We don’t have to create an immovable five-year plan or make things happen on our own. We have a Father who’s seen all of this before. He’s predetermined every moment of our life together. He knows us both—what we need and what we don’t. He has always provided for us, and He’ll continue to do so no matter what unknowns are still to come on this marriage journey.

Traveling As A Team | Part 1

Written with love, by Karley Kiker

Before I began writing this column, I posted a graphic on Instagram and asked brides-to-be + current wifeys to share the marriage topics they’d be most interested in reading about. When someone mentioned the topic of traveling together, my face instantly broke into the expression that little side-smile emoji makes. The one that’s basically saying, “Oh, yeah. Have I got a story for you or what.”

Since my husband and I are currently preparing for an extended trip to Southeast Asia—we’ll be covering an event for the first two weeks, but the next few are for exploring and making the most of the fact that we’re on the other side of the world—I thought that now would be the perfect time to tackle this topic. August 5th will mark the beginning of our third backpacking trip together in as many years of marriage, and I have to say, we’re getting pretty good at this “traveling together” thing. But did we start out that way? Oh, no. Traveling together (and actually enjoying it) was a big ol’ learning process that started on our one-year anniversary trip to San Antonio, Texas. The story goes a little something like this.
. . .

We had two goals for our trip to San Antonio: to celebrate our first wedding anniversary, and to take a step toward our dream of traveling together.

Taylor and I had both done quite a bit of traveling on our own prior to marriage, so I think we both assumed that adventuring out into the world as a team would be really easy for us. After all, we'd been married for A WHOLE YEAR. Meaning we were basically certified relational experts who never-ever experienced conflict. (Ahem.)

Day One went off without a hitch, minus the fact that I left a celebratory bottle of wine and two extremely necessary cups of coffee at our apartment. No big deal. We overcame these potentially argument-inducing obstacles with ease, and proceeded to the highway. Detours incurred were only of the fun variety—Czech Stop for kolaches and replacement coffee (it’s famous in Texas), and a surprise visit to explore amazing caves. After arriving in San Antonio, we prettied up a bit at our hotel and hit the Riverwalk for dinner. Love-and-marriage success!

Then came Day Two, which encompassed everything I talked about in my first official column—marriage reveals selfishness. Let's set the scene: San Antonio is experiencing record-breaking heat waves. I have just opened up my bag, which reveals that I left every single pair of shorts I own at home (and that obviously I'm not as adept at late-night packing as I previously imagined). Hence, I am forced to wear black workout pants (which smell like the inside of a cave thanks to the activities of Day One), a workout tank, and tennis shoes. We proceed to the Alamo, where every other girl is wearing a cute sundress and cute sandals and cute sunglasses. It's fine.

Post Alamo, Taylor suggests that we rent city bikes and visit the rest of the "nearby" missions. He graciously asks if I would like to do this. I pause for a long moment, because at this point in my life I am not good at biking, I am hungry, and I am already feeling the heat...but ultimately I give the plan the go-ahead, because 1. I can tell that he really wants to go, and 2. I think that there is potential in this plan for a few cute Instagram posts. I wish I was kidding.  

Long story short, my attitude plummeted from agreeable to tolerable to every word out of my mouth is a complaint in about 10 minutes. The "short" bike ride was actually 18 (hilly) miles in its entirety, and by the time we arrived at the first mission, my arms were sunburned from the tops of my shoulders to the backs of my hands. Naturally, I made sure to call out frequent updates about the status of my burn, the severity of my thirst, the fact that I had almost crashed into the river, and the searing pain in my calves to Taylor at least every five minutes. Surprise! We ended our bike ride early...and proceeded to enter into a pretty decently sized fight.

Conflict inevitably happens in every relationship, whether it's a romantic relationship or even a friendship. But in marriage, you don't just get to agree to disagree...or run away to your hotel room and pout. You commit to work it out, to dig to the bottom, to see through the other person's eyes, and to understand. And so in that moment—the one where we were supposed to be having fun, but seriously considering high-tailing it back home—we learned something(s).

Taylor likes to jam-pack his travel schedule.

I like to move at a slower pace.

Taylor likes to do action-oriented activities that require sturdy travel clothes.

I like to find the most authentic cafes and boutiques in town...and look "cute" while doing it.

Taylor can go all day without eating.

I...can't.

These aren't travel-together deal breakers by any means. They're just differences and preferences that, even after one year of marriage, we didn't know existed. Now that we are aware of them—and we have 24 additional months of exercising our ability to compromise under our belts—it’s approximately 100 million times easier to plan an itinerary that gets both of us excited to strap on our backpacks and hit the road.

That doesn’t mean the learning has stopped, of course. New locations mean new challenges, and new challenges mean new opportunities to stretch, grow, listen, problem-solve, and—there’s that word again—compromise. Again and again and again. And to keep loving, too. Even when it’s hard. Even when the pretty places you’re visiting start to reveal a whole lot of ugliness buried inside of you. Even when you’re so worn out and exhausted that you find yourself screaming “I’m going home!” in the direction of your husband’s back while standing in the middle of a random street in Croatia, and your husband turns around and hands over the credit card and pretty much says, “Suit yourself.” Even then.

There’s a famous, very Instagram-able quote that says, “The world is a book, and those who do not travel read only a page.” To that I would add, “Marriage is a journey, and those who do not travel miss out on the opportunity to take that journey to the next level.” It’s not as Instagram-able, but for us, it’s been just as true. Take your first road trip together and I think you'll see what I mean. (Insert side-smile emoji here.)

Lots more on travel + the things travel reveals in marriage coming next week! In the meantime, feel free to pop by our travel account, @freerangecheckins on Instagram, and take a peek at our most recent backpacking trip.