The Radish ROI

I celebrated my anniversary recently. It’s an exciting time to be me and married—life is looking up—but historically, I was a risky investment.

The irony is that since we’ve been together, I’ve found some marked improvements. I make more money, I’m in better shape, and I even eat radishes now. But what should have been green lights to happiness accidentally created a minor fear in our world. My wife was concerned that since I had "upgraded," I might look to replace the hardware that got me there.

I scoffed at the idea originally, until I realized she didn't understand her own ROI.

When we met, I wasn’t the man you see today. I was a block of marble, buried under a lot of rough edges. In fact, she didn't even like me at first; she thought I was a bit too "street" for indoor living. It took a year of shared friend circles before she saw something in me that I didn't see myself.

Then, on a whim, we moved to China. Guess who got us there and made sure I actually showed up? When we returned to the States, she jumped straight into being a productive member of society while I spent my time lamenting that COVID was "killing my art." When I started running, she ran with me—never mentioning that she’d had a collegiate track career while I was struggling to find my pace.

That was her chisel. She painstakingly took every stroke.

Over the last five years, I’ve worked through the “me” problems, finally gaining traction and finding my speed. Now, she has a partner who isn't weighing her down, but adding to the flight. But that new altitude can make a person feel weak. The rub is that in my excitement to fly, I didn’t take the time to thank the artist who spent years carving me out of the stone.

Now, people gawk at the changes in me, and she quietly accepts no credit.

We sit at the table now, eating a meal she made that—of course—includes radishes. She looks at me and thanks me for being there. That’s it. That is the only bar I have to clear. Meanwhile, she still stresses that she isn't doing enough.

The truth is, this new version of my life is our reward. She put in a decade of front-end labor; my job now is just to be there.

And to eat my radishes.

Word Count: ~440 words

Approximate Read Time: 2 minutes