Our first wedding anniversary is coming up, which will not just mark one year of marriage for us, but also five years of being together. When you get married, it seems everyone asks, "does it feel different?", or "has anything changed?". I find myself asking people the same things too because it's so variable for everyone. For me, marriage does feel different, in the best ways possible. It feels like... having a slumber party with your best friend every night!!! Just kidding. To me, it feels more like getting a good night's rest. No matter what the next day brings, both will only help.
When we got married, I had no idea what the next year would look like, but "wonderemployment" certainly wasn't even a thought on my mind. I was expecting to continue my job until the end of 2014, at least. We are in a strange juxtaposition right now, with him working harder than ever at his job and then each day coming home to study for a professional exam, while I am working just a few days a week with more free time on my hands than ever. Career decisions, health issues, rent increases, births and deaths within our given and chosen families have all triggered many conversations between us about how to live in this moment, as well as plan for the future. Life is happening in its characteristically unpredictable ways, and the most constant thing we can count on is each other.
Many months ago I had dinner at the home of an older colleague. When the conversation came up that I had recently gotten married, my colleague's wife asked me, "Why did you decide to get married? It seems like so many young couples aren't choosing that route anymore." No one had ever directly asked me that before, especially not someone outside of my peer group. Flustered, the first thing I said was "stability". It was not a perfect answer for such a complex question, but it was in many ways the truth. Stability means a lot of things to me. It means knowing someone will be there to hold your hand when you get good news or bad; it means having a standing dinner date every night; it means never having to DTR (define the relationship) ever again. More than that though, when you get married, you publicly announce that you have chosen this person to be your family, your partner in all things, your go-to-person in case of emergency. Even if you feel all those things in your heart, the outside world--including the courts, the hospital, your insurance, and perhaps even your friends and families--will not recognize that until you are married. Society views marriage as the most sacred and respected of relationships. It could certainly be argued that this marital privilege is misplaced and outdated, which I agree with to some degree, but still, I wanted it for us. If anyone ever asks "who's this guy?", I can answer it reasonably in just one word. I believe very passionately that everyone should have access to that one word for their one person, if they want it. Having that social and legal stamp of recognition means a lot fewer questions, a lot less judgment, and in my mind, a significant amount of security down the road as our lives become more intertwined with children, property, and all that big stuff. It sounds unromantic, but to me, it is a compelling reason to make it official, as they say.
So that's the "why" of marriage, but what about the "how"? I think often about how two individuals can stay happily married for the long haul. I've read the research, examined other relationships in my own life, asked people who have been at this for awhile, but I have a hunch that marriage is not something you can study on paper and walk away certified. You just have to experience it and learn as you go. This is not to say we aren't putting deliberate effort into it. More than ever before, we are trying to practice being kinder, more patient, and more generous with each other. We talk a lot. We see ourselves as a team, literally us against the world. We also have incredibly supportive friends and families to cheer us on and keep us surrounded with love, and we put as much time as we can into nurturing those relationships.
I admit that I struggle with the idea of "forever". Anyone who has witnessed their parents divorce knows that marriage is no fairy tale, and that a bad marriage can leave a lot of destruction in its wake. Cynicism about marriage seems quite pervasive. I feel like I read and hear a lot of commentary along the lines of "marriage is stupid", or worse, that marriage is for stupid women. People love to point out that half of all marriages end in divorce (a statistic that deserves a closer look). I acknowledge that the risk is real, and that it is absolutely prudent to think about the seriousness of the commitment. I don't consider myself or our marriage divorce-proof. If anything, I am convinced that staying married will be incredibly hard, a miracle even. My parents' journey has shown me that nothing in this life is guaranteed, no matter how much you will it to be so. Illnesses, deaths, disasters, and other major events can all change us as people and while the hope is that two people will change together and grow closer, it sometimes doesn't happen that way. But to me, the risk is not so much marriage, but love. It is scary to love someone so completely, to structurally and emotionally build your life around one person. Being with Curtis has brought a new worst fear into my life, which is that I can and will likely lose him someday (unless I die first, not exactly an appeasing thought). But I accept this fear because the alternative would be cheating myself of the best experiences of my life. And I could never choose that.
So, my dear, here's to risk, to security, to effort, to ease, and to living life to the fullest. Happy first anniversary.
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