Tom and I took getting married seriously. For us, it was never about the party, or the dress, or the food. It was about promising to be there for one another, for the rest of our lives. I'm so glad we had (and still have) that mindset, because our first year of marriage certainly put us to the test.
Marriage isn't easy. I know this. I know that every single married couple has ups and downs that they must get through together. So I am not claiming that Tom and I are unique, or that what we faced is harder that what other married couples endure.
I'm just saying it was difficult.
It was not difficult to love one another, support each other, to be there for each other.
But it was hard that I spent the first 5 months of our marriage in and out of our home, spending most of my time caring for my dad as he was dying. And then I spent the next half of our first year in a deep grief, with waves of anxiety and depression taking me under every so often. It was also hard that just when I felt like I was starting to get a grip on things, and feel really confident about our future, that we had a shake up with Tom losing his job. He found another one quickly, and we will get back on track to where we were, but those two weeks brought back another sucker punch of anxiety.
Of course, there were so many moments of light amongst all of this. The sense of relief I feel around Tom is one that I cannot describe. He gently pulls me back when I start to step too far. He is my safety net.
I'm not sure what the next year, 10 years, 40 years (you get it) will bring. More challenges, I'm sure. But I know that we can tackle them, because I see what we did in just one year. I know that we can come out stronger. But I'm also sure there will be adventures, and new beginnings, and excitement. And in between both the heavy and the light, there will be the boring nights where we sit on the couch and watch Youtube videos. Because you need those boring, quiet moments to balance it all out.
We've had a messy, beautiful first year. We've had enough tears to fill an ocean. But we've made it, and we've been step by step with each other, in a crooked, not quite perfect stride.
Just last week, I started toying with the idea of blogging again. It started when someone commented on an Instagram post and asked if I had ever considered starting a blog or a podcast. I told her that I used to blog, but I stopped because I felt the posts were getting to repetitive, and that I had been using the #365daysofgratitude tag on Instagram for the past couple of years to replace my blog posts. I thought about her comment all week, and by the end of the week, I had come up with an idea for a podcast. I even started jotting down notes and investigating how I could record without spending thousands of dollars on equipment.
At the same time that this was happening, I was reflecting on my amazing summer. I posted a fun slideshow of photos and wrote about how much the experiences I had this summer meant to me, and that I felt truly lucky to have had them.
And then, not even 24 hours after I wrote that post, we found out that my husband lost his job. I felt everything get swept up underneath me as I fell apart. I cried for him, because he truly loved his job, and he worked so hard. I cried for us, because we've had an incredibly difficult newlywed experience already. I cried because I was scared, we have worked really hard to build up our savings to buy a house and I feared losing it all and never getting the house. I worried that this would mean we would delay having kids, and what if we never have kids? I selfishly and maybe childishly cried because we have plans to go to Disney for the very first time in our lives in a few weeks and what if we have to cancel? I cried because he was hurting. I cried because I felt helpless. I cried because I couldn't fix it. I cried because I felt insanely guilty about all those summer adventures I had just spoken so highly of. I cried because my dad isn't here to tell me that it's going to be okay and to give me his best advice. For two solid days, I cried.
Those two days felt like hell. Like I would never get out of that mindset and I would never feel calm again.
But somehow, like I always do, I pulled out of that. I'm not suddenly calm and worry free, but I am confident in the team that Tom and I have built together. We are a unit, we always have been, and we will move forward together. It will not be easy. Anyone who has ever had to search for a job knows how hard it can be. But we will not cave, and we will fight through this together.
I think maybe that's what my dad would have told me. To be there for each other through this. He'd also tell Tom to stand tall and stand proud, and remind him to follow up on applications and send thank you notes when he has interviews. And he'd remind us over and over again, that it will be okay, to take one day at a time.
To me this is another reminder of how surprising life can be. The next big thing, whether it's good or bad, is always around the corner, and you are never fully prepared for what it will be. So while this may test Tom and I in a way we were not expecting, maybe a really grand thing is coming for us. I've got to hold onto hope that our next turn is a bright one. It might be rocky along the way, but knowing that we are by each other's side, picking each other up along the way, is going to be our saving grace.
So here we go.... a new adventure. Maybe this will mean more blogging, maybe it won't. I'm just glad I'm living this life with him, I couldn't imagine it with anyone else.
This blog post has been something that I have been wanting to write for a while. I've chickened out each time- which sort of tells me that maybe I should just keep this to myself. But I'm also daring to be bold in 2015, so here I am.
I know that some people will not understand why I'm putting this out there, and that's okay. Not every blog post is for everyone, I get that. But I also think that what I have to say may resonate with others, so I'm just gonna do it.
Okay, I'll quit babbling and just get to it.
At least once a week, someone asks me when Tom and I are going to get engaged, or why Tom hasn't proposed yet, or elbows me in the ribcage and whispers "your next!" when someone at work is talking about their wedding plans.
And I'm gonna be honest, it's pretty annoying. But tonight, in this blog post, I'll tell you why we aren't engaged.
We aren't ready.
That answer in itself should clarify y things, but I've found it doesn't. So let me expand:
Tom and I are both the type of people that take marriage really seriously. It's not about a wedding, a party, a ceremony, or a ring. It's about a lifetime commitment of love, support, and companionship. At 27 years old, I personally do not feel like I am ready to enter into lifelong commitment with someone. Even though I love Tom, and I feel confident about our future together, it doesn't mean I'm ready to get married. We want to develop our relationship, and we want to do that slowly. We've already been though a lot as a couple that has pushed our patience to the limit- and we've survived. But we're young. And before we say "I do", there is a lot we want to experience- as two people in a serious relationship.
On a personal note, I spent majority of my life hiding from who I was and hiding from the world. It's only within the last two years that I have learned to love myself, my body, and to be confident in who I am. I'm still getting to know ME. Tom has helped me get to this point, and I am forever grateful for that- but I would like to continue to get to know ME before it becomes us. Maybe that's selfish, but maybe I need to be selfish after years of self destruction.
In sum, we aren't ready. We have a lot to learn, about ourselves and about each other, before we feel we can get married.
I'm coming at this topic from a few different angles....First, as a person who is constantly asked about the future of her relationship. There's some frustration there. Secondly, as a person who is a people pleaser. I've been this way my whole life- I just want people to like me, and to agree with my choices. So maybe that puts the pressure on a little tighter. I know people want me to get married, so sometimes it makes me feel like I am doing something wrong. And third, as a person who used to say similar things to her friends. Not necessarily the marriage question, but I used to be pretty vocal about my friends relationships when I didn't really agree with their choices. But soon it became pretty clear that my opinion was not going to change much, and also that my role as a friend was to be there to listen, support, and comfort. Which can get tiring, and it hurts me when they are hurt, but unless they are physically or mentally in danger, I no longer tell them what I think. I've learned it's their life to live, and whether or not it is clear to me why they are doing certain things, I've got to just let them do it. Again, trust me, I still step in if I fear they are in danger, physically or mentally. Or, I take a step back. But you get my point... I hope.
So I've been in every position before, and I get that people, for the most part, just really want be to be happy, so that's why they ask. But personally, I'm really happy with the way things are right now, and I'd like to just enjoy it.
I feel as though society has a plotted timeline of how things should go, and when someone takes too long or misses a spot, people start to ask questions. And to that I say this: There is no timeline. Nothing in life is promised. What you do in your life may not be what works for me in my life. The wonderful thing about life is that we were all created to be unique- and so our lives, and the paths we take, are also unique.
This post is not to say that I think what Tom and I are doing is the way everyone should do it. Some people fall madly in love and get married within a year, and live incredibly happy lives. Some people never get married, and also live incredibly happy lives. My point is that everyone is on their own timeline, and that's totally okay.
By the way, although my post was specific to getting engaged/married, it could really apply to anyone who gets pressured to take the next steps in life, whether it's to get their drivers license, declare a major, get a job, have a baby, etc. There's pressure at every stage in life. To anyone who's feeling that sort of pressure, know that you are in control of your own destiny, not anyone else. Do what you think is right for you. If you make a mistake, own it and find the beauty in it. At least you tried. Dare to be who you want to be.
