Tag: husband

Let’s Talk Marriage

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Yep. It’s that time of my life. Not the time when I’m getting married. But the time when everyone around me starts piling on the pressure about it.

I’ll start our conversation with this – I’m ready. I’m ready to go learn to live with someone. I’m ready to share my life with someone. I’m ready to have good and bad days and work our way through this insane universe while standing by each other even on the days we don’t want to.  I’m ready to start planning a wedding that will happen at least one year away. I’m ready for it all.

But I’m not ready to choose the person that I will get married to.

I know, I know. That’s the most important part of it. It’s all about the person. But here’s my problem – If I make this choice, I can’t change it. Ever. And the truth about life is, every choice we’ve made is somehow permanent, in reality or in our memory. But my choices in the past have never tied me to a person for eternity.

If I choose one person, even someone I love, I can’t take it back. And everyone rushing with their advice about how it doesn’t matter in life how carefully you pick because you can’t predict the future and how human beings change with every tide – Yeah,I’ve heard it. I understand it. And I’d totally take that gamble if I’m only looking for a husband.

But I’m not.

Because this person I marry is not just a husband. He’s not just going to be “the man I’m married to.” He’s more. SO much more. He’s my family. He’s my hug on a bad day. He’s my best friend when I’m fighting with my real one. He’s my coffee buddy every morning. He’s my companion when I’m sick and old and fragile. He’s the father to my children. He’s their “good cop” because I’m a control freak with a combination of anxiety and OCD. He’s the calm to my never-ending storm. He’s their shoulder and mine when our hearts break. He’s my person.

And I get one shot to choose him. One shot. To choose the person that will influence every decision there is to make about my future.  And I’m not ready for it.

“But you’re 25! You’re an adult!” Says who?!

If my maturity is defined by a number, we don’t need life experiences and life lessons, do we now?! “Just wait till you get older! It’ll come to you.” Seriously? I feel like the adult in this conversation right now.

But honestly, how do you choose?

“Oh, you just know,” is not an acceptable answer. I don’t know. I’ve never known. I’m terrified. I have anxiety. Even if I know, I’m afraid I don’t know well enough. I’m afraid it’s wrong. I’ve known things before, gone with my instincts and messed up terribly. How can I be sure this isn’t one of those times again?

So I did what I do best. I asked someone, “What did you ask her? What made you think she’s the one?”

He gave me a list:

  • Career
  • Expectations in her marriage
  • Likes
  • Dislikes

And.. I just sat there, staring at that answer for a while. I didn’t know what to  say because it seemed so… less.

Here’s what I thought I should start with – What do you do from the moment you wake up until you fall asleep – On a working day? On a weekend? On vacation? What’s your lifestyle like? What do you want our lifestyle to be? Do we watch movies every weekend? Do we stay in on Sundays? What are your questions for me? If I need you, would you drop what you’re doing and come to my rescue? If I need a day off, will you take care of the children and work from home? Can we split the house expenses? Can you deal with my need to plan every last detail about everything? Will you fuel my wildest ideas and craziest dreams? Will you understand my love for surprises but my inability to deal with them? Will you put up with my need to know the ending before watching thriller movies? Can you promise me “us” time everyday? Will you cook on alternative days? Will you go grocery shopping with me? Can we have a snack drawer? Will you take me out for midnight food cravings? On a weekday night? Can our children be vegetarians even if you’re not? Can I take over the closet in our room because I have too many clothes and nothing to wear?  Can I choose our home decor if I promise not to let our room turn pink? Can I cry my mascara into your new white shirt? Will you hug me even when we’re fighting? Will you find me beautiful even when I’m sitting with messy hair in the middle of chaos after yelling at you for no reason other than the fact that I’m PMSing? Oh! And we’re going to adopt pets. LOTS OF THEM! That’s cool, right?!

And after he answers all this, I still have that burning question running in my head – “What if he changes his mind about it?”

Because arranged marriages or love, they’re still human beings. And there’s almost 7 billion of them on this planet. You need to choose one. This person, his past, his present and his future will help determine whether your kids are going to Harvard Law or sitting behind bars. How do you choose him?

What do you look for? What lifestyle is acceptable? And what if mine changes? What if I grow up and become a different person who wants different things? I used to love H&M and Forever21. I’ve wasted so much money there. But I don’t shop there anymore. Three hours, a documentary and some Google research later, I couldn’t bring myself to buy fast fashion anymore. Three hours to change something I’d done for a lifetime.

What if everything I love changes someday? Will he still be the right person or me?

“That’s the main question to be answered. That’s when the soul searches as to whether this is an age phenomenon or is this my phenomenon. Answer that.”

– Sai Krishna

But how do I know? And the unknown is the scariest of them all.

It’s funny when everyone around you wants to talk about getting you married. They talk about how you’re old enough to find a groom. If you can’t find one, they’ll find one for you. But the thing about all that is – they’re not really talking bout marriage. They’re talking about a wedding. They’re talking about finding a man and tying the knot. And they’re right. I am ready to have a wedding.

But the problem is what comes after. And in their need to see me as a bride, they forget –  After that one day of dressing up and celebrating, there is still the rest of my life.

And I’m not ready for that. I’m not ready for a marriage.

Why isn’t that okay?

To The Man I’ll Marry

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When I was a teenager, I wanted that crazy love that makes your heart beat faster. When your brain stops working and in a room filled with people, you have eyes for that one person and only him. The cheesy kind with love letters and framed pictures. A love story that beats all odds.

I’m 22 now. I’m sitting in my room, staring out the window every other minute as I type this and I’m feeling rather confused. There are two kinds of people in my life today – The helplessly single & The hopelessly in love. I feel lost amongst them both. I feel lost in general. Maybe I know you now. But I can’t wait to meet you. To smile at you and know in my heart ‘This is it. I’m done looking.’ But there’s a part of me that doesn’t want to meet you right away. My life is too still and directionless that I’m afraid I’ll lose you when it begins to move again.

But then there’s this little voice in my head. The one that wishes we never meet. Abnormal for a fairytale believer but..

People teach you things in life. They teach you how to cook, clean, pay bills, do taxes. People teach you simple, unimportant things in life. But when you ask someone to teach you how to make a marriage work, nothing makes sense. Because that’s what I want. A marriage. Not a big, fat wedding. But a happy and healthy marriage. Something I’ve never seen before.

I grew up around dysfunctional families and broken marriages. Even the happiest of couples get bored with each other and there is not a day in my life when I’m not terrified we’ll end up like them.

I still remember the time when marriage was simply a concept I could day dream about. Today, everything feels realistic. Two years from now, I won’t have a choice if I prayed for it and I hope that’s not how I end up meeting you. I wouldn’t like you, wouldn’t love you enough because you will become the walking reminder that my parents won the unspoken battle I’ve been fighting with them for years, thanks to you.

I will warn you now, I’m not going to be the picture perfect wife. If I’m promising you otherwise, I’m lying to try and impress you. I’m lazy. I like sleeping in, hate cooking, have zero patience for anyone and anything, get lost in my own thoughts, cry in my sleep and get restless after mid-day naps. I complain about the smallest of things and I truly believe that I am always, always right. Any rule I come up with doesn’t apply for me. I talk in circles, nonstop. I sing out loud in a flat voice and speak in an Italian accent to my dog. I crack lame jokes. But I’m also unbelievably sensitive. Hurting me is very easy because when I care, I really care like a kid in kindergarten because I had to grow up too fast and I enjoy being a child when I can.

I don’t know what I’ve told you and what I’m not supposed to tell you. I don’t know if you’ve told me everything about yourself and the truth is, I don’t want to know everything. I don’t want to know about your hot, psycho ex-girlfriend or your drunken mistakes or the girl who broke your heart in high school. But I don’t want to miss out on stories about university and your childhood. I’ll smile when you tell me you miss them and I’ll hold your hand as you frown because you’re not PeterPan.

If I haven’t told you this, I’m trying not to freak you out – I’ve imagined our lives for a long time. I’ve imagined the normality of it. When I see an old couple in love, I’ve imagined us turning into them one day. I don’t know what we’re going to do about kids. I try not to think of that. But I’m sure when we get there, you’ll be the better parent. Please don’t hate me for that.

When they grow up, let’s be those parents our kids are super embarrassed of. The ones that never fall out of love. Let’s always have a smile for each other. The thought of you will always make me blush. Even if I live to be 100.

When you’re talking to my dad, don’t make fake promises. Don’t tell him you’ll never make me cry, you will. Don’t tell him you’ll treat me like a princess, it’s literally impossible. Don’t tell him we’ll never fight, we really will. Like crazy people. So when he asks you to take care of me, promise him this – Promise him that when the going gets tough, you’ll stand by me. Promise him that when I cry, you’ll be there with a box of tissues laughing at my horrible crying-face. Promise him you’ll never say no for an ice-cream run in the middle of the night just because. Promise him that we won’t have a prenup because what kind of a person gets into a marriage with even a sliver of doubt that it might end someday? And promise me this – No matter what happens, good or bad, we’ll figure it out.. together.

Because if you’re reading this, I promise, I’m going to give this my best and try to keep you happy. If you’re reading this, I swear, I’ll always remember that there’s two people with hopes and dreams, not just me. If you’re reading this, I’ve spent hours trying to find this post for you because I want you to know. And if you’re reading this, I’m not going to run out on our wedding because..

When you’re reading this, I am hopelessly in love with you.