Becoming Sister Wives: The Story of an Unconventional Marriage (18 page)

Regardless of Robyn’s efforts, during the first year, I was unwilling to accept her offers. I was settled in my ways and not open to anything new. Despite my spiritual witness, I found myself kicking and kicking against opening myself up to Robyn. I was certain she and Kody were destined to be together and that she was an essential part of our family. But I found myself unwilling to make the effort to build a bridge between us. As I learned during my initial months in the principle, just because something appears celestially destined doesn’t make it easy.

When Robyn joined the family, I was very busy with my kids and my job. I was hardheaded and believed that I didn’t have time or need for this new person. I imagined Robyn and I could live as if we were riding in the same car but looking out separate windows. I had worked hard to find equilibrium with Christine and Meri, and the three of us had formed our own sort of partnership. As far as bringing Robyn into the family, I didn’t have any reservations. I just hadn’t committed to the necessary emotional
and practical work involved. I wasn’t sure that I needed or wanted to make room for a new person in my life, despite the fact that I felt spiritually convinced she should marry Kody.

But after a while, I got tired of fighting against Robyn and the potential friendship between us. I finally understood how helpful she had been in teaching our family how to communicate better. I realized that I was looking for a way to “punish” Kody and Robyn for disrupting my life—and it took way too much time and energy to be angry with this woman who was trying so hard to open up to me. So I started letting her in. We still have a long way to go, but we’ve begun the journey. I am already starting to see the benefit of developing a relationship with Robyn. Before Kody told me that he had met Robyn and wanted to court her, I never had any vision of her as part of our lives. I was satisfied with our adult unit of four. I never saw her coming. Yet when Kody mentioned her for the first time, I felt spiritually moved. Now that she’s here, it seems as if she was always meant to be here.

Robyn possesses an amazing amount of emotional maturity. One of the things that she has helped with in our family is pointing out areas in which all of the marriages need solidifying. She has helped Kody realize where he may be inadvertently shortchanging one of his other relationships. This, in turn, has given Kody the tools to explain to me that we need to demonstrate more warmth and affection in our marriage. I’m learning to be less pragmatic about love and more romantic, even if it’s something as simple as not dashing out the door in the morning before Kody and I have had a good-bye hug.

Over the years, Kody and I fell into the unfortunate habit of letting family business and finances dominate our alone time. These became the only things we ever talked about. Since I’m completely work-oriented, it didn’t seem strange to me to discuss business matters on our dates. The fallout of this was that eventually
Kody and I stopped talking to each other as husband and wife. Instead, we interacted like business partners. We’d forgotten about the sweeter side of our marriage.

Something was clearly wrong. We both understood we needed to make a change. I recognized that I needed to change my tone with him and relearn how to talk sweetly and lovingly. I began to understand that I could have a more profound, caring, and emotional relationship with my husband if we put aside all the business chatter during our evenings together. Once I started doing this, I discovered that there is unlimited potential to enrich our relationship. As a result, our marriage has grown deeper and more caring than I’d ever imagined it could be—or even knew that I wanted it to be.

Just like Kody’s and my individual relationship, our entire family is still evolving. We are learning more about one another every day. This is the beauty of the principle—it demands that you never stop working on yourself in order to be the best person you can be on this earth. There is no room for complacency. Naturally, there are bad days. There are times when I’ve said to my sister wives in the middle of a fight, “I would never be friends with you. Ever! If it were possible, I’d hate you.” But I don’t hate them, not at all. You don’t pick your sisters. Sometimes you get along with your sisters and sometimes you want to kill them. But deep down, you always love them. Always.

The first year of Kody’s and my marriage was tough. I realized that I hardly knew the man I married. I don’t mean to say that I didn’t love him. But he felt like a stranger to me. And I realized that I was completely unsure where I stood with him, which was a terrible and unsettling feeling.

I wasn’t entirely unaware of the struggles I might face. Growing up around so many polygamous families, I was well aware of the problems and pitfalls—the anger and jealousy, as well as the daily organizational and financial struggles. I knew that the situation I was entering was going to be challenging. I’d never seen my parents fight, but I realized that once they got divorced, their marriage must have been troubled for a long time. But in our family, if you had a problem, you just put on a smile and didn’t let it show. I never saw my parents try to work through their differences until it was too late.

But when I married Kody, I ignored any potential problems. I put on my rose-tinted glasses and cheerful disposition and imagined that when I entered a plural marriage, I wouldn’t experience those issues other people faced. If I was naive, it was because I chose to be.

Not long after I married Kody, I stopped being able to cover my problems with a smile. I was nervous and insecure. I felt overwhelmed by my new situation. Janelle had just given birth to Logan. At first, the four of us—Meri, Janelle, Kody, and myself—couldn’t agree on how to organize our household and raise the first child. Naturally, Kody doted on Logan. But this made me feel insignificant. How could I compete with a firstborn son?

For the first three months of my marriage, I lived in the house with my sister wives. It was a strange transition. However, despite some of my own struggles, I felt that the four of us were developing a solid family identity. We’d often eat meals together around a small kitchen table. I had grown up in a large family, filled with kids. I thought it was really, really strange to be sitting around a table with only adults for company.

Eventually, I realized that I needed to develop and deepen my relationship with Kody. I still didn’t know him very well. Although I always idealized the notion of living with sister wives, it became clear that I required a little separation for a time. (Plus I’m sure my sister wives were getting sick of living with a couple of newlyweds!) So I got my own cottage. I loved that cottage. Kody and I needed some time together in our own world. We’d barely had a moment alone since we married.

Three months into our marriage, I became pregnant. Between my insecurities and my hormones, I was a wreck. For the first time in my life, I was apart from my parents and my friends. I was living in Wyoming, which was cold, bleak, and far away from home. I was lonely and worried about my marriage. I tried talking about my problems with Kody, but I didn’t know how to express myself. I didn’t have the vocabulary for telling him what was wrong.

Kody didn’t know how to listen to me. During our first fight, which was, predictably, about the fact that I thought he divided his time unfairly between his wives, he just put his head in is
hands and covered his face. It was as if he was trying to make it all go away. He didn’t have the emotional tools to deal with the needs of three wives. I knew that he felt he had married me too soon. The four of us were too young to deal with the situation we’d created.

Not long after Logan was born, Janelle went back to work. She was the most employable member of our family and was able to get the best jobs. While she worked, I looked after Logan, which was a joy and a delight. I loved mothering him. It was the highlight of that first difficult year.

Kody likes to say that I was instrumental in Logan’s first year. Since Meri and Janelle were still struggling with each other, I was able to bring joy into his world. I created a sort of truce between my sister wives, which made the house more peaceful and loving for Logan. Logan is certainly the child of all three mothers. Meri provided constructive discipline, Janelle, a safe and comfortable place. And despite my own problems, I showed him as much happiness and joy as I could. I played with him as much as possible, teaching him both silly and instructional games.

While I enjoyed taking care of Logan, I spent the majority of my first pregnancy down in the dumps. I had lost sight of who I was. Like Janelle, when I married Kody and entered an already established family, I lost my identity. I was no longer my bubbly, energetic self. I couldn’t look on the bright side because I was unable to see the bright side. Even though I had a strong testimony in plural marriage and always wanted to enter a family as a third wife, it was harder than I thought it would be. I struggled with my disappointment and frustration that something I thought would be perfect—celestial even—was actually hard work and brought about a certain amount of pain. Before marrying Kody, I honestly believed that being a third wife would be the easiest position because the family would have already worked
through all their issues regarding jealousy and sharing. But I had no understanding of how much work would be left to do.

Right after my first child, Aspyn, was born, I got a phone call from an old friend back in Utah.

“Christine,” she said, “where are you right now?”

I didn’t understand her question. I told her that I was in Powell, Wyoming, where I lived.

“I know where you are physically,” she said. “But where are you emotionally? You seem lost. You don’t seem like yourself,” she said. “What’s changed?”

I told her I no longer felt good or worthy. I felt insecure in my marriage, which was about the worst feeling in the world.

“You’re still the same girl you’ve always been,” my friend said. “And that’s the reason Kody married you. Kody loves you for you. Don’t change. Don’t mope. And don’t try and be anyone different.”

For some reason, her words really resonated with me. I was a wife and a mother, and I knew I could be happy if I wanted. I’d lost my identity only because I’d let it happen. I could be me and be happy if I chose. I know this sounds overly simplistic, but all I needed was for someone to remind me that it was up to me to reclaim my sense of self. I needed a kick in the pants. After all, I was the one who’d committed to the plural lifestyle. I was the one who had wanted sister wives more than I’d wanted a husband. It was up to me to enjoy it and make it work.

Once I became more relaxed, I began to understand my place in the family. I started becoming an active and important force in negotiating a truce and soothing a lot of our hurt. Meri and Janelle didn’t have a relationship at all, but I had started to develop a fun sort of camaraderie with Meri. In addition to this, I was able to talk to Janelle about her interests and concerns.

I’d always idealized the nature of sister wives. I expected that
they would be my best friends. After that first troubling year, I realized that friendships aren’t instantaneous. If you want someone to be your best friend, you have to work on the relationship.

Over time, I was able to forge close friendships with Meri and Janelle. Meri became my best friend. Janelle and I grew extremely close, but since she is much more reserved than either Meri or me, our friendship is slightly less dynamic and more practical—which doesn’t mean I love her any less than I do my other sister wives.

After Aspyn was born, I started to benefit from the sister wife experience I’d always hoped for. Aspyn was the first girl and a true delight. She helped restore my sense of happiness and joy. I was a mother and a wife—equally important as my sister wives. Once I’d given birth, I began to lose a tremendous amount of weight. I guess my puppy fat was ready to melt off with the pregnancy pounds. (Although I have to admit, I am the cutest pregnant woman in the world!) One day after I’d slimmed down, Kody, Janelle, and I were out shopping. We were in a clothing store where everything was far out of our price range.

Money was really tight then. (It often is in our family.) We may have been married and had kids, but we were as financially secure as a group of teenagers. I was looking around the store and I found this white fringe outfit that I just had to try on. When I came out of the dressing room, Janelle said, “Christine, you have to buy that.”

I protested that it was too expensive.

The outfit cost a hundred dollars, which is more than any of us had ever spent on anything besides rent in our lives. It was ridiculous. But I thought I looked pretty cute in it—and Janelle and Kody clearly agreed.

“I don’t care,” Kody said. “I’m buying that for you.”

Moments like this, away from the duties of family life, proved
to me that the possibility of a fun and tranquil plural family was indeed within our reach.

We had been moving around a lot since I came into the family. I had my own place for a while, as did Janelle, but for financial reasons, right after Aspyn was born, we had all moved back into one house. Shortly after this, Meri gave birth to her daughter, Mariah.