He Surprised Me With A Trip To Mexico....And I Was Pissed.

This is one of those stories that you can’t decide if you want to tell. It happened almost ten years ago, and I'm just finally writing about it. Because the optics are tricky. There are some who will perceive me as being ungrateful, spoiled, and dramatic. But I think that’s just the problem. I recently heard a quote that quickly became one of my favorites. “You are a unique kind of person. It’s ok to want a unique kind of love.” Have we become so dissociated from the concept of real romance, that we’re expected to swoon over any gesture of affection? We get one life. Is it too much to ask the person with whom we’re spending “til death do us part," to know the aspects of our personality well enough to show up in a way that's custom fit, just for us? As a generation who grew up watching a Prince go from house to house, and believing that him returning a shoe because the MFer never even got her name, makes him worthy of “Charming” might have something to do with our obviously low standards for how our partners show up for us, has become.

I’m more likely to be perceived as one of the wicked stepsisters, than Cinderella. Because “romance” is supposed to be enough. Because if your love language is

“gifts” (mine are all five, but that’s a whole other conversation), and your partner brings you “gifts,” congratulations, your partner obviously understands you. Just be grateful and appreciate said gifts. Do you know how many wives would kill for their husbands to surprise them with a trip to Mexico? Ohhhh, you bet I do. I was SCORCHED after we put a podcast episode out in which I told my side of this story. But now that Adam and I are in a different place in our relationship, I know what it’s like for your partner to understand. I want everyone to know that they’re entitled to this type of love. I’ll finally get into the ring and tell you the story of the time I fought back against “romance” (que me stretching and bouncing around in place, Rocky style).

A few days before my 37th birthday, Adam handed me a manilla envelope, with a “boy who just found a Wonka golden ticket,” expression. I was intrigued. I was excited. “Open it. I’ve been waiting to give it to you and I can’t wait anymore.” A brochure for an adults-only, all-inclusive resort in Riviera Maya dropped out. The brochure looked like heaven.“Holy shit, Adam, this is great,” was my immediate response. “We leave first thing tomorrow morning!” It felt as if someone had punched me in the gut.….whatchu talkin’ bout now, Willis? TOMORROW?! Uh uh. No. Fucking. Way. My facial expression said what I wouldn’t dare. Gratitude. Romance. Grand gestures. Jesus, Danielle, be grateful! Just be grateful!

I was panicking. Three kids, two dogs, packing, logistics. “Don’t worry, I’ve arranged all of

the childcare. There’s someone sleeping here with the kids and to put Mia and Ean on the bus. And someone is taking Jonah to preschool.” I was desperately trying to maintain my “live, love, laugh” suburban housewife demeanor, but all I could think was, what about all the other activities? What about the fact that our middle son who has awful anxiety about being without us, would have less than 24 hours to digest that mommy and daddy would be away for a whole week! I started bawling. What kind of wife am I? Who cares that the kids will miss all their activities! It’ll be good for Ean to confront his anxiety. I always tell Adam he needs to step it up in the romance department. So, here he is, stepping it up! Pull your shit together, woman! I looked down at my gross hands and feet. I don’t even have time for a manicure/pedicure. DO YOU HEAR YOURSELF?! You are not a Real Housewife of New Jersey!

After a few airport cocktails, I was no longer worrying about who was taking my son to drum lessons, or my daughter to therapy, or the fact that I had to stay up most of the night beforehand to organize all my (and my family's) shit and get packed. And part of me was grateful and excited. But, how could Adam overlook how stressful it would be for me to have less than 24-hours to prepare for a week away? We don’t vacation alone often. How could he not consider that my favorite part of a vacation is planning it, and having something to look forward to? How could he not know that there were so many places on

my bucket list, and getting to cross one off makes me so happy?! How could he not know that I don’t want to fucking stay anywhere with “wellness” in the title?! How could he not know I would have loved to plan this together; to have a say in the experiences, the dinners, and the hotel? We may not be able to go away just the two of us again for another five years. That’s a long time to wait to be able to take part in planning a vacation.

Nine years later, Adam and I just went on another vacation. Once we confirmed that we were working this trip into our budget, he let me take the reins. For weeks I researched, sending him links to hotels and excursions and possible culinary options. We had so many fun conversations comparing places and sharing our likes and dislikes, finally choosing a “bucket-list-worthy” resort. On this vacation, I could breathe. I felt seen and understood in a way that I did not nine years ago. It wasn’t just romantic, it was personal. I was grateful because I wanted to be, rather than expected to be. I want a love that’s tailor-made just for me. I want that for Adam, too. The more we’ve practiced (yes, it takes practice) doing that for one another, the more we each want to do that for one another. Prince Charming didn’t consider that maybe Cinderella hated those glass slippers. Maybe she really wanted a pair of custom Nike dunks with “I don’t need a fairy godmother,” hand-painted. Just because the shoe fits, does not mean we need to wear it. We’re a certain kind of human. It’s ok to want a certain kind of love.