Marriage: There’s still time to get out of it.
“So how is your wedding planning going?” My co-worker with the mullet asked me the other day.
“Oh, well, you know. It’s going just fine. Not too stressful, pretty easy,” I reply.
“Easy! Weelll! That’s good. You got your date and everything?”
“Yep. November this year.”
“November? Well that will be different.”
“…” I wasn’t quite sure how to respond.
“Well, I will be divorced by August hopefully. And, I cannot wait, I will be celebrating!” she replied.
“….Well that’s…great. Good for you?” And then I just turned away and pretended to be busy.
(In case you’re wondering, this blog is about marriage and tact.)
I do not know if other ladies sporting a diamond ring on the left hand have experienced this much, but for me, it is almost a daily, at least weekly, occurrence. Perhaps it is the nature of my job–meeting strangers, gesturing with my left hand to this bank of elevators or that hallway (I’m a front desk girl, remember?). But for some reason when people see the ring on my finger they feel this pressing, very urgent need to comment on it.
These people will either 1. Congratulate me (and in this case, Thank you so much, we are very excited!); or 2. Commiserate with me and most humbly take it upon themselves to inform me how hard marriage is and how there’s still time to get out it.
Most of the time they (mainly men) are joking when they say there’s still time to get out. But for some reason, I can’t find any humor in it. I’m sorry, but I take getting married very seriously. Like most people should (and hopefully do).
And other times, they are not joking.
“Oh wow, that’s a pretty ring you have!” A man, wearing a safari hat in a downtown Chicago corporate office building, says to me.
“Thank you. Yes, I just got engaged. We are very happy.” I reply, avoiding eye contact, hoping the conversation goes no further. (This also happens to be the same man who feels the need to share Nazi trivia with my German co-worker. She just loves that of course.)
“You know you’re too young right?” he goes on.
Me—I am speechless. He keeps going before I can even blink my disbelieving eyes.
“Yep, you don’t know what you’re getting yourself into. You’re too young. You don’t know. It’s real hard, real hard.” A self-important smirk slapped on his face the whole time.
“Ha! Marriage,” he continues, “no one should get married. If I had the chance to do it again, I definitely would not.”
I’ll be sure to inform his wife of that next time I see her.
Well, little do they know, I am a crusader for love.
First of all, thank you to everyone who has informed me that marriage is hard. I have been living in a cave and so obviously I am blind to this fact. I have never heard my own parents fight. And my best friends’ parents growing up were not all divorced. I have never seen movies or watched the news. Also, I’d like to thank priests and pastors who discuss divorce during wedding ceremonies. If you had not mentioned it here, I would never have known that it exists.
Second of all, realizing (obviously just now) how hard marriage is, and not knowing what I may encounter in my life, I am making a pact—a covenant—with my husband-to-be, to God and myself: Out of my own free will, I will fight for love, our vows, and the institution of (our) marriage forever. I will keep our marriage holy, as it should be.
And can I just say, I am hoping that this new decade will bring forth a revolution of love (and patience).
Love exists and I will be a beacon for my husband and for the world—if he’ll share me.