After twice settling for less than I wanted in a mate, I finally married for love. If I had only waited for the right man to come along, I wouldn't have experienced the heartache of my first two marriages. It is easy, though, to look back and figure out our mistakes. It is much harder not to make them in the first place.

I married my first husband in my early twenties. I'd been jilted twice by men that I truly loved and was beginning to wonder if anyone actually got married anymore? (I know, I know. Why buy the cart when you've already got the horse?) And that's how it was. When my first husband came along, he wined and dined me right up to the altar. Then I was married. Boom. I hardly knew the man.

When I did get to know him, I was scared. He would throw things and rant and definitely had an anger management problem. He was very possessive and wouldn't allow me to go anywhere unless he went too. Twelve months and two black eyes (mine) later, we were history.

I rebuilt my life and healed from the damage caused by my first husband. I worked on my attitudes, started going to church, and that is where husband number two entered the picture. We were church friends and divorce buddies. In fact, our divorces were final the same month. We got along, had similar interests, and both wanted children. What more did we need?

Well, love would have been good for starters. Being in love with love doesn't count.

I became pregnant shortly after we were married, and when our daughter was born, we were tickled. We had very little money, and my husband had a hard time holding down a job. But I was willing to work and work and work. . . However, my second pregnancy was a nightmare. I vomited for eight out of nine months. Our son was born with serious problems and required constant medical care for the first three years of his life. That is when I found out what my husband was made of. He wouldn't help care for our child, and all he did was wallow in self-pity for having a less-than-perfect son.

I stuck with this husband, though, for the children's sake. I figured that two parents were better than one. However, now I think differently. In sticking with my second husband, my children were exposed to a lot of bad role-modeling from both of us.

My second marriage had more than its share of bad luck, with illnesses, financial problems, lawsuits, and a host of other dilemmas. My mother-in-law would tell us that if we didn't have bad luck, we wouldn't have any luck at all. Throughout the entirety of the marriage, my husband retreated further and further into himself and refused to deal with the problems. I, then, over-functioned for all of us and micromanaged the family.

Finally, when the kids were grown and out on their own, I cracked. After 23 years, that marriage came to a turbulent end, but at least it was over. I wasn't about to make a third mistake.

Now, six years later, I am remarried, and this time I married for love. My husband is my soul-mate and best friend. One thing that I cannot get enough of is his sense of humor. We thoroughly enjoy each other's company, and we laugh a lot. Between us, we have four grown children and four grand-babies. Best of all, we are crazy in love.

Take my advice: Do not settle. Because if you do, you'll be sorry, and you might miss the right one when he or she finally comes along. Hold out for the magic, and get it right the first time.

Learn more about this author, Jenna Pope.
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