Just kidding. No it’s not. That was click bait. Did it work? I’m practicing. My next blog titles are:
How to Make a $100k with Just Your Toe Nail!
The Everyday Guide to Never Aging EVER!
Justin Bieber’s Selfless Act!
The exclamation points really help to sell it, don’t you think?
Yeah, okay. More practice needed. I’ll work on it. Thanks for reading this far and not leaving yet.
I’ve been trying to figure out why people say the first year of marriage is the hardest. I mean, that’s sort of a slap in the face to anyone that’s been in a relationship for 10, 20, 30+ years right?
You want to try to tell these people that the year in which your marriage is the newest and most honey-moon-y is the most difficult? Not the year when the kids come into the mix, or when someone loses a family member or close friend, or the year someone makes that really unnecessary and expensive purchase, or any other list of potential possibilities that one would have to go through that would be far more challenging than a first year of simply being legally wed to someone?…
My most recent hypothesis on why people say this is because the first year of marriage is new – and maybe that makes it the most ‘scary’ year of marriage because there’s a lot of uncharted territory. Every argument is new. You have no coping strategies. There’s no rhythm to the argument. You don’t know how long you’ll stay mad or how long he will; or if you’re ever going to come to some sort of resolve… or if maybe you were just stupid and you shouldn’t have gotten married in the first place.
It’s kind of like sitting really close to the emergency exit. If shit goes sideways your impulse is going to be to reach for the handle on that emergency exit. Versus when you’re a few rows away, you might reach for the oxygen mask or the floatation device first – just to see if it helps – before you consider jumping ship.
Brin and I haven’t been together very long, in the grand scheme of it all. About 2 and half years total. We also kinda don’t really fight much. Sometimes he’s a butthole and I tell him not to be – and other times I am, and he has to tell me not to be… but an actual fight? Like, where someone is authentically upset and there’s no apparent and immediate solution? That’s new for us.
Brin and I got in our first solid scuffle just recently. And it made me have a glimmer of understanding on why people say that the first year of marriage is the hardest. (For the record, I still don’t think the first year of marriage IS the hardest… I just now have an appreciation for why someone might have made this suggestion.)
Because my initial thought was “OH MY GOD. WHAT DO WE DO? We’re MARRIED!! Did we f*ck up? Was this a huge mistake? DO WE GET DIVORCED NOW???”
But it’s not like I’m dramatic or anything.
Okay, so sue me. I’m a worst-case thinker. I am innately anxious, it’s basically a talent, and occasionally this causes me to jump to slightly dramatic conclusions. (But hey, on the upside, this has made me an excellent problem solver. My brain will automatically start processing the most likely pitfalls and negative outcomes – and immediately start calculating their relative solutions. It’s magical.)
I also tend to assume that my husband will simply just stop loving me because we’re arguing; and the thought of that makes my left eye twitch, my stomach turn, and it’s around this point in my meltdown I acknowledge that the apocalypse would be a welcomed distraction. So if I’m at lease 2% emotionally prepared for this outcome, I feel I can handle it a bit more smoothly. And so it is: Worry-Wart to the rescue!
Sometimes I take comfort in knowing people actually spend an abnormally large amounts of time in unhappy and unfulfilling relationships. So even he is kind of miserable, maybe he’ll still stick around for a while, ya know?
I find it to be such a shame that we hide our pitfalls as humans. I mean, of course we want to. They are ugly and the entire measure of our success is built around a convincing masquerade of appearing to having our shit together. But is it really worth it? Doesn’t it sort of create this social trend of separatism, which in my humble opinion is becoming so passé. Like, we are all messed up. Can’t we just admit it already? We’re all essentially just very large children that have no idea what in the world we’re doing. So maybe just throwing it out there sometimes and airing the laundry in a contrast to all the experts and know-it-alls (hey, no judgement. I am annoyingly know-it-all-y too) would be a welcomed alternative in the literary consumption of the general public.
I’ve been making the solid effort lately to be more transparent. In effort to unify those of us that are going through something – even the little things.
[Side note: I’ve also been making a solid effort not to lie EVER. Not even white lies. Try it. It’s harder than you think.
Oh sorry I’m late, I couldn’t find my-
Yes, your hair is am-
Your baby is so c- … is a baby!]
I wanted to share this because I can’t count how many times people have commented on how amazing Brinley and I’s relationship is. How perfect we are for each other. How awesome we are together. And I think we are! I’m grateful for the relationship I’m in, and I’m happy; and I’m honoured that other people see in us what we feel for each other.
AND it’s also important to me that people are aware that we have bumps. Because they’re there and they’re real and they HAPPEN. Because even though something appears as sunshine and rainbows, does not necessarily indicate that underlying shadows are non-existent. AKA happiness and strife are not mutually exclusive.
I would be happy to give you a more detailed account of our argument a little later. It’s still fresh for us, so I want to respect my husband and our relationship by not completely unearthing the details our first shitty fight on the internet. That said. When this wave has passed and we’re both safely and confidently back in the groove with our surf boards in tact – I’ll totally fill you in on all the nitty-gritty.
Thanks for making room on your internet today for me to air a bit of our dirty laundry.
My favourite conversations are the ones that jump right into the deep-end of life’s garbage, so if you ever need someone to talk to, feel welcome to call anytime.
P.S We’re not even actually down the first year yet. 10 months and going strong. WHOOOO!