I Do — A Vow to Know Myself



I Do — A Vow to Know Myself

Rediscovered words from 1996 on the meaning of commitment

Editor’s Note — October 2025. This essay was written before the digital age — long before marriage equality entered daily speech. On Monday, August 19, 1996, I typed “I Do” on a water-spotted page. Reading it again nearly three decades later, I find both the innocence of discovery and the maturity of insight.

With the right to marriage a “hot trending topic” again, I’m amused that the magnitude of the word vow has long been my Achilles heel when it comes to the commitment of marriage.

With all due respect. In words penned as a forethought to a marriage announcement by a close family member, I felt persuaded to face my own disposition on the subject. I realized that my greatest discovery was that I had not yet discovered my own self.

As I witness the euphoria of marrying newbies, I found my “I Do” testimonial. If the inclination were to occur, and I in sound mind and body willingly entertain the sacred vow of marriage (again!), I had already prepared my pledge — one that shares my honest fears, concerns, and deepest desires.

“I Do is more than a ceremonial exercise. I Do is not entitlement.”

To say “I do” means that I am making an informed decision about who I am and my willingness to serve another being. I accept the realization of my vulnerability.

I need to commune emotionally, physically, and spiritually with someone that love has chosen for me. My feelings aren’t clinical; love happens spontaneously. I may hear a song, see a flower, smell a fragrance, feel an inner stirring, and in my mind’s eye, it is you.

To say “I do” I am acknowledging that I appreciate and respect you. You are divinely unique, not perfect. You are not an extension of me, nor am I of you. I have dreams and desires, and I ask you to enjoy what I offer. I will not conveniently delight your tastes. I am the selfish, the opinionated, the callous, and also the fragile. When I say unkind words and act displeasingly, I hurt me and inevitably hurt you also. Our communion allows me to reflect in the solace of your love and understanding.

“I am not entitled to wear your ring, have your name, or bear your children.”

I Do is an awareness — a conviction that a new journey in my life is about to begin. In this journey, you are my chosen companion. The task at hand is not the prospect of what lies ahead, but the ability to apply lessons learned on tolerance, compassion, patience, steadfastness, and kindness.

I Do does not erase problems, old habits, likes, or dislikes. I intend to share my whole self — not just the good parts, but also the parts that are, unfortunately, unpleasant.

In saying “I do,” I take responsibility for loving you as you are also. As one of God’s uniquely imperfect creatures, I seek to find and strive for what I perceive may be best for me. We are given the opportunity to discover more about ourselves and learn in the process.

In my discoveries, I may uncover that I am domineering, possessive, controlling, and insensitive. These are traits that are part of who I am. I am also affectionate, caring, passionate, and loving — and with the “I do,” I expose all my nakedness for your love and total consumption.

“Here I am — I say ‘I do’ knowingly, willingly, and lovingly.”

This is my opportunity to surrender myself to another. Each day that lies ahead I will embrace and cherish as a gift given to me by God. “I do” is my gift to you — to share our moments with God entwined as our destiny.

“I Do” composed and written by G. C. Walker — Monday, August 19, 1996.

Originally shared online here: 2013 archive post. This page preserves the 1996 text with updated title and 2025 reflection.

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