Date the Fat Guys, Ladies

In what can only be described as “true love,” I agreed to marry my fiance without ever dancing with him.

Perhaps this seems impossible, improbable, or a smallish point in the grand scheme of our love. But I tell you, it is not. I come from a dancing family. My mom and dad fell in love in college through dancing (and homecoming committee), and continue to swing around the floor with passion and laughing, grooving to the music. We six kids have no formal dance training, but we have natural rhythm and a blatant disregard for awkwardness. We’ll have impromptu dance parties at home, in the car, and even public places, if the music is right. It is a pathway of love for us Robisons.

I mention B.’s and my lack of dancing during ten months of courtship because this was how I approached our relationship: taking him for who he is, accepting his limits (as he accepts mine), and letting God’s love for both of us lead. He said he wasn’t a dancer. I didn’t push him into a dancing situation until weeks after our engagement, a wedding, when I then found out he can dance. And all I can think now is, What a glorious gift from my God!

Too often, we gals imagine the most perfect looking man for us. We want our handsome knight, and we want him with a six-pack. But what of his character? Does he respect you? Is he interested in spending time with you? Could you grow together and be friends? Do you see potential in him as your life partner, through difficulties and diaper changings?

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