Posted 2:03 AM by Mona V.

The Odds on Shamu and Me

Fourteen years ago, I was introduced to a guy – no more a man than I was a woman. Typical of the young, shallow, single me, I was looking at him intently; but my thoughts were far from the introduction that was going on. I remember thinking, “Oh, he is sooo cute! Gorgeous face. No wait. His teeth are too small.” The guy smiled at me. “Eek, it’s Shamu!”

In time, I learned why we couldn’t possibly be more than friends. He couldn’t dance. He was not “creative” – he was an engineer, of all things! He was too short. Referring to my formula for an ideal man, he just wasn’t right. I found out later, he thought I was too loud. I was “meatier” than his ex’s. I was too high-maintenance. I was involved in things he wouldn’t dream of taking part in. So it was silently decided -- we were not for each other. And without the pressure of being romantically attracted, we became good friends.

It was somewhere between being this man’s friend and marrying him three years later, that I discovered I loved him because he was a far cry from my girlhood ideals. He taught me things I never would have discovered on my own – the beauty of simplicity, the truth in humility. He cured me of my relationship inferiority complexes I overcompensated for. He reassured me of being deeply loved even if he would never declare it in skywriting. He is, without doubt, the love of my life.

Because we got married so young, there were quiet bets among friends about how long we were going to last. Five years was the most optimistic wager on the table. It’s been 11 years and Shamu and I are still together.

‘Guess we won that bet, huh? Now, I wonder how we can collect …