This Man. This Marriage. This Peace - Laetitia van Schalkwyk

 It’s been a while since I’ve written anything on this platform…

Since getting married on 14 August — and with our 5th wedding anniversary approaching this year — it almost feels as if I died to a previous version of my life.

Whenever a new door opens, there will always be something you mourn about your old life. But there will also be things you deeply appreciate and celebrate in the new one. That rhythm of loss and gratitude never really changes.

It’s funny how I became so used to being single again after a 17-year marriage. I grew perfectly comfortable in my own skin — going to movies alone, having coffee dates with myself, and occasionally spoiling myself with a restaurant meal. I even went on holiday alone to Blouberg Strand in Cape Town, moved to Mossel Bay, and truly enjoyed the quietness and solitude.

But here’s the unexpected twist: now that I am married to my best friend, I don’t even feel the desire to go sit somewhere alone with a cup of coffee anymore. It’s simply not fun. What once felt like independence now feels incomplete. Coffee tastes better when shared across a table. Silence feels richer when someone you love is sitting in it with you. Life, I’ve discovered, is far sweeter together.

Then I married a man who was 53 at the time — never married before, and who had never been in a sexual relationship. I can honestly say it has been quite an adventure starting married life together and seeing the world through his eyes. His purity was something rare and beautiful to witness. It made me smile often. It brought humour, innocence, and a kind of tenderness I did not expect.

It’s also funny how we can believe we are fully healed from trauma and pain — only to discover that marriage becomes the place where deeper healing unfolds.

In the beginning, many moments moved me to tears — not because of hurt, but because I wasn’t used to being treated with such love, protection, and respect. I remember asking Stephanus one day, “Why are you so nice to me? Why are you doing this for me?”

His answer was simple: “Because I am your husband — and that is what husbands do.”

Honestly, I married the best. There isn’t a doubt in my heart.

In the past four years and seven months, it feels as though we have lived an entire lifetime. We have experienced trauma. We have experienced rejection. Rejection, in many ways, caused us to live a very private life. But privacy has also protected our peace.

We are deeply grateful to have found a community in Potchefstroom — a place we drive to once a month from Klerksdorp — where we experience overwhelming love and acceptance. A group of people who celebrate us. Who see us. Who welcome us. And in a world where rejection can be loud, their acceptance speaks even louder.

When we listen to others speak about constant conflict and fighting, we both agree: it is better to walk through rejection together and live in peace, than to live in constant strife.

I can deeply relate to the words in Epistle to the Philippians 4:7:

“And the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.”

That peace — the kind that makes no logical sense — has carried us. It has guarded us. It has steadied us when everything around us felt uncertain.

And if I had to choose all over again — the healing, the adventure, the rejection, the quiet life, the shared coffee, the journey — I would still choose this man, this marriage, and this peace. Every single time. 🤍

- Laetitia van Schalkwyk