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I’ve been married two months now. Yes, to the same person.
This is aeons by some standards. Nicholas Cage once got married for four days; Britney Spears was married for 55 hours.
My (cough) husband and I are comparative veterans at a whole 65 days today.
Here’s an odd thing though, for me anyway, for big, bolshie, independent Jennie who admits to few fears except perhaps getting on the scale; who operates a catch-and-release policy with spiders; who took on a bag-snatcher and won; who bungee-jumped to conquer a fear of heights (it didn’t work); who has now apparently taken to talking about herself in the third person: I actually like being married.
I never had fantasies of a white-cloud dress, of Prince Charming, of a fairytale happily-ever-after.
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I never wanted someone to be bound to me by law, but rather for them to be with me of their own free will – free to stay, free to go, on the turn of a dime, on the whistle of a train.
I was that free person too. I could walk anytime but I chose to stay, as did himself.
We needed no paperwork – there was romance in being together simply because we chose to be. Being married changed things.
After 20 years of loving someone and 18 years living together you’d think nothing would be different – a married friend swore it would be the same – but it is.
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I feel… happier. Lighter. And – it really pains me to admit this – more secure.
I never realised I was insecure until I knew what it was to feel secure. Yes, part of it is financial, part of it is because this is now officially, lawfully and inarguably my person, my next-of-kin in an emergency, but the rest… I don’t know.
For a person whose currency is words, I find myself without any. My proud independence was my armour.
I understand now I’ve felt insecure most of my life, a low-level white noise of precariousness since I fell pregnant at 19, since forever, since I was first let down, since my first wretched teenage break-up when I knew I must never rely on anyone to keep my heart safe again.
No one could break it if I held onto it. And yet here I am. Here we are, together.
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