On being complete…

We all have our ideas of what “completion” means. We’ve all probably completed something, some task or goal, somewhere along the course of our lives.

Some have completed undergrad, master’s work, doctorate programs. Some complete projects, big and small, even daily to-do lists. Races, chores, papers, getting ready for a night out, dinner, reading a book. We’ve all completed something…many things, in fact.

But what does it mean to complete a person?

You know, like that line from Jerry Maguire: You complete me.

What the hell does that mean?

I’ve always been pretty adamant about never saying that someone “completes” me. That assumes that I was somehow un-whole or broken, missing a piece, before that person came along. I’ve long preferred the term “complement” in a phrase such as the one above. People are, indeed, complementary to each other.

Humanity is its own perfect accessory, really.

I have friends that are like the best pair of shoes I’ve ever had…stable, supportive, and sexy.
Some are like the perfect handbag…holding things I need with pockets to hold little nuggets of advice when I ask.
There are those friends that are my best jackets…I feel warm and comfortable with them, like going outside and about my life would be silly without them.
I have necklace & earrning friends…the ones that hug me when I need it and listen when I’m desperate.

My life would be far less sparkly, interesting, fashionable, or fun without any one of my friends.

So back to this “completion” issue.

I think I might be starting to think differently about that word as it relates to humanity.

I said to a friend the other day, “I can’t do life without him.” [Him obviously referring to my husband]

So I wonder…was I somehow more incomplete before I found him? Before he found me? Or maybe when we started dating, doing life together, got married, a new version of myself emerged. A version that, without my husband, would be incomplete and miserable. Humans, I believe, are meant to be in relationship, friendship or romantic, it doesn’t matter. I believe that it’s inherent in us to want to be with other people, to want to share our experiences and hurts, failures and triumphs.

I think that might answer my own question. Yes, I was incomplete before my husband. But I would also be incomplete without friends, family, humanity.

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