On Being Married

You know how when you turn ten, you are so excited to finally be in the “double digits” of age? But when you finally turn ten, you don’t really feel that much different even though you still think you should. So when someone asks you if you feel any different now that you are finally ten, you say, “Yeah! It’s great!” The same thing happens when one finally becomes a teenager, but by the time people hit their “sweet sixteen,” they usually begin to realize the truth. People continue to ask the “How does it feel to be…” question, and it becomes a sort of unspoken community inside joke. “How do you feel now that you’re 21?” “I feel hung over!” “How does it feel to be 40?” “Old!” Har har.

Well, I was fooled yet again. I’ve finally learned that I feel exactly the same at 21 as I did at 20, and I rightfully predicted that I would not suddenly change into a more mature adult after my college graduation. For some reason, though, I was under the assumption that something would magically change the moment I got married. I talked to Brian about this after the fact, and he said, “What exactly did you think would happen?” To which I replied, “Uhhh… like, feelings and bonding… but mostly bad things and stuff.” I’m not always very articulate. Luckily, as I have already hinted, I was not one of those girls who got married to a creep thinking that the magical change of marriage would make everything better. Rather, I married him with the almost-conscious but quite vague fear that everything would change and all the good things would become bad and he’d realize he hated me all along. Or something. Most of what I think doesn’t make a lot of sense if I actually decide to apply logic.

But guess what? Nothing changed! I thought to myself after the wedding, “Now that I’m married I feel so…” and I completed the sentence several ways in my mind. “…exhausted from not getting enough sleep.” “…glad to be going on a vacation with the person I love.” “…excited to see my friends from college again before who-knows-what.” I felt no magical new emotional connections, and Brian had not given me any reason to believe he’d suddenly get sick of my shenanigans. All the little annoying things Brian did before we got married remain, and they still manage to annoy me. But he still makes me laugh when I’m frustrated at him so I can’t be mad anymore. He still doesn’t understand my train of thought when a misplaced wallet convinces me that I am entirely inadequate and will never be successful and probably shouldn’t have kids because of the genetics I’d be passing on to them plus I’d probably leave them in the car. But he still hugs me and tells me it’ll be okay when this outburst inevitably ends in tears.

So if anyone is thinking about asking me what it feels like to be married, it feels exactly the same as it does to be engaged or dating. Except Bailey isn’t around to do my dishes.