FINE. I'll write something, because I know you all have been basically DYING to know what has been going on with my life.
While there have been a great many things written on being married, and I’m sure that I won’t be the most eloquent or elegant of all the offerings, I’m going to wax poetic anyway. You’re welcome.
First of all, it’s awesome. Dating Mr. Wildcard (whom we will refer to as The Husband or TH going forward) was awesome, but being married is a greater awesome. There is no ambiguity. There is no “what’s the next step.” It’s solid: it’s a marriage. It’s continual. He’s supportive, comforting and challenges me. He is my greatest blessing and my wubbles. Getting all those things, from a person you adore, is a gift.
Secondly, it’s hard. Duh. Marriage is hard. And not in a bad way – in a really fulfilling, work through it kind of way. Although, I can tell you how NOT FUN it is to discuss how we’re going to file taxes.
Thirdly, fourthly and fifthly, it’s hard.
Have I mentioned it’s hard?
Before we all get our knickers in a twist over my commentary, when I said it’s hard, it’s because IT IS. Arguing or being in a committed relationship isn’t what’s difficult – in fact, that’s easy in comparison. Putting two lives together is hard. Putting two completely separate systems and ways of doing things into one is hard. Having two minorly stubborn 30 year olds with lots of individual responsibilities and commitments join together IS HARD.
There are a few dozen other things that need to be worked out when you get married. Logistical garbage that is not at all interesting. Who takes out the trash? (We both try.) Who does the laundry? (Well, I actually like doing the laundry…) Who takes care of the dishes? (Ugh, dishes. My archnemesis.) I would love to just gloss over these decisions, but YOU HAVE TO TALK ABOUT THEM. And if you don’t discuss these “tiny” things, they can grow into huge issues.
(Yes, dishes can become a point of contention. Of course, this was mainly between my parents and me during my teen years. It was a dark time.)
I like to plan things a little in advance and put it on the calendar. I leave a few do-nothing days in there, in case anything interesting or fun pops up. (Read interesting and fun as: I want to sleep late and watch entire seasons of Gilmore Girls.) He hates planning. He would rather not use a calendar. He will randomly decide to go do something on the spur of the moment. Sure, neither way is better than the other, but they are opposite and, occasionally, annoying to the other person.
I also like to go to bed with the TV on. He disagrees. Negotiations are still in process.
These are the kind of things that you don’t discuss before getting married. You talk about big ticket items: debt (my bad, TH, but I really loved school), kids, where you’ll live, religion or political views. You don’t talk about how you absolutely need the towels to be folded this certain way or the earth will stop rotating. You forget to mention that you can only use one particular detergent because…well, just because. You neglect to inform your poor spouse that dishes give you flashbacks to a time when you didn’t have a dishwasher and your mother liked to drink milk, but left a little in the glass and it was ALWAYS at the bottom of the gigantic pile, meaning that it had been sitting, growing penicillin and other bacteria, for approximately a week and you were forced to wash the entire pile WITHOUT GLOVES. (That’s gotta be against some law, right? It’s clearly child endangerment of some type.)
It’s a learning process. Luckily, I'm a good student. I have grasped how to say, “I’m sorry” in a new, interesting and fresh ways. (You know, I went to school for an EXTREMELY long time, but they never covered that topic…I feel like I should get some kind of refund.)
All the changes, all the compromises, all the adjustments - this is why the first year of marriage is the hardest.
Impossible? Of course, not.
TH is my person. My forever person. Putting our two fleshed out lives together has been hard, but it’s also been gratifying, rewarding, sustaining, reassuring and fully satisfying. It has been completely and totally worth all those changes, compromises and adjustments. I’d gladly do it again, if it meant getting to be with ol’ TH.
So, maybe I’ll turn off the TV at night and maybe he’ll plan a dinner a week or two in advance.
Maybe I’ll even wash the dishes…
HA. Kidding. PAPER PLATES 4 LYFE. (Again, sorry TH. The dishes are your burden to bear.)