Decided to post this blog entry I wrote today. Enjoy
Alright, let's get this over with, and fast. Yes, I'm getting married. Yes, I'm 22. Yes, my fiancé is 20/will be 21 when we get married. No, I'm not pregnant. Okay. So now that we've been over the basics, let me set a few ground rules for what you should and should NOT say to me about the fact that I'm getting married at 22.
What NOT to Say:
- But you're so young!: In the scheme of things, number-wise, yeah-- I guess I'm fairly young. I'm not 30, 50, 70 or anything beyond and between. But mentally and emotionally, I've lived eons longer than you. You do NOT know what I've been through in life or my story. Furthermore, I didn't realize there was a rule that you had to get married after age 25/27/etc. And no, I'm not above making the argument that our parents/grandparents got married at 18-21 and they're doing just fine
- But you have so much living to do!: Or something else implying that once you get married, all you do is live in a 12 x 12 box with your spouse (kids available in some models) and never see the light of day. My definition of living is doing things I enjoy with my loved ones. Well, okay so really my definition of living is breathing, heart beating, blood pumping, etc. Anyways. My definition of living IS NOT going out, getting black-out drunk and waking up with a different person I can't remember meeting every morning. Or even once. I did my share of "living" in high school. People do things at different stages- high school, college, mid-life crisis, never. I will not apologize for not fitting your cookie-cutter mold of going to college, partying, graduating, marrying some frat boy you woke up next to one morning and popping out some kids. I knew what I wanted by the time I was 19 or 20. I went through enough crap to know exactly what I DIDN'T want. Honestly, I think the thing I miss most about being single is having the whole bed to myself.
- Are you pregnant?: I THOUGHT WE COVERED THAT. Regardless of whether you're a friend, family member or a complete stranger, you must have some nerve to ask me that because you refuse to believe a 22-year-old is capable of the emotional compassion and commitment required to be in a serious relationship/marriage. "Of course, the ONLY reason someone could get married at your age is because they're burdened with a baby!" I'm going to skip over the fact that people act like a child is a "burden", because that's a different story for a different day. But seriously. *eyeroll*
- Various assumptions/accusations that a marriage is a different type of relationship than the one we were already in: Okay, I get that marriage is a bigger show of your commitment that's more difficult to "get out of." *Cringe* THAT'S THE POINT. I know from the bottom of my heart that he's the one I want to wake up next to every morning and have random dance parties in my kitchen with. If you're making this assumption/accusation, I invite you to peek in my window when we're at home together. That's not going to change as soon as we say "I do." Or ever, hopefully. I get that you wouldn't marry everyone you date. (Also the point of dating: to weed out the rotten ones.) Shoot, if I had married the first person I dated, I'd be in an emotionally and verbal abusive marriage in a career I didn't want with 3 kids by now. Or more likely divorced at age 22. So you tell me-- would you rather see me happy and married at age 22 or a battered, divorced single mom at age 22?
What TO Say:
- "Congratulations!"
- "I'm so happy for you!": Only if you are, though. If not, pick another option. Like the next one!
- Nothing at all.
My dad, while loving and supportive, has also always been hard nosed and very blunt, especially about some of my choices in life. But one thing he has NEVER put me down for was choosing to get married. I will never forget his excitement and the happiness in his voice when we called to tell him we were engaged; it legitimately shocked us both. If someone so historically critical but knowledgeable of my situation can be so ecstatic, there's no reason complete strangers can't at least be accepting of my choice.