November 21, 2017

No. 7.5

If you’re coming from my previous post, then you’re here to find out Number 3. The third thing that I would recommend not to do. Writing this a year later, I also said that my mind toward all of this has changed substantially. I’m a woman, I’m allowed to change my mind, right?

Michael loves The Chainsmokers, and when he saw that they were playing at Red Rocks while we were in Colorado, there was no doubt that we had to be there. Red Rocks is one of the most stunning music venues in America. All the concerts take place in this incredible open-air amphitheater. I love The Chainsmokers as well, but the music I heard on the radio was nothing like what I was about to experience.

We got there around sunset to experience Red Rocks in all its natural wonder, and I was in good spirits…see!

Everything was all well and good…until the music started. I leaned over and asked, “is this what the entire night is going to be like?” Michael responded reluctantly, “yes.” When he should have said, “No, it’s going to get worse. Much worse.”

Sure, the lights were pretty and the lasers were on-beat, but the smell of weed permeated my very soul. Im not sure if the overwhelming marijuana usage was worse than the throw up of the guy directly in front of us. Listen, I’m not a boring gal, rather the opposite actually, and I like to party just as much as Hot Rod does, BUT I considered that night “one of the worst nights of my life.” I hated the music, I hated the environment. I hated everything. And I let Michael know it.

Tell me when complaining actually does anyone any good. I’ll wait.

This truly was dubbed one of my least favorite nights in my 29 years of living. But recently, I think it’s become one that I am so grateful for. What?! Plot twist. Keep reading.

It was this night that Michael saw a new vision for our family and a new direction he wanted to take his gifting. The videographer that was there, Rory Kramer, was one of Michael’s favorites and someone he often kept an eye on throughout his career. He watched and took mental notes and was having the time of his life. That is, until he’d look at me and my visibly repulsed face. I didn’t hide it. This is still a night that Michael will never forget, but instead of a supportive and enjoyable wife in that memory…he had me. Upset, crossed arms, angry me.

I look back at this night and can barely remember the smell of the vomit or the leftover smell of weed in my hair. I look back and think that kind of night could be tonight or tomorrow night or any night. What kind of wife will I be? What kind of memory will Michael have of me in that moment?

Guess what? Michael chased that dream and is currently walking it out. Michael is doing what he loves and I will forever remain proud and supportive. I will give him memories where he can actually share about his wife’s great attitude and about her probably really good outfit.

So would I recommend not going to Red Rocks? No. Go. You have to. Would I recommend not being a brat when your loved one is trying to enjoy life? Yes.

Thank you, Red Rocks, for a night we will never forget!

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