On Sunday, Patrick and I celebrated our six-month wedding anniversary by watching nearly seven hours of what Netflix claims are \”Halloween favorites\” and eating a tasty homemade caprese salad, as Patrick decided that six months may be the \”caprese anniversary.\” Without doubt he has some culinary deliciousness planned in six more months.
How has my life changed since April 21? Somewhat, by no means. In other ways – not a lot. In still more ways? Not much. Actually, the manifestations of marriage within my day-to-day life are almost negligible, and maybe because Patrick and I already lived together and wanted to be with one another forever before we chose to place a sheet of paper onto it. But also perhaps because, once you spend months planning the hoopla of a wedding – even a small one, even a cheap one, like ours was – almost anything would seem banal in contrast.
Some changes are negative, like the fact that I personally, seriously cannot just go out and adopt another cat at random from the ostensibly no-kill shelter just because they're starting to euthanize them since they are overrun with cats. (Are you reading this Patrick!?!? Overrun with cats! Killing them! Think of their little meows! Their tiny paws!) But Patrick has (so far well-managed) feline allergies and we've already talked about obtaining a dog as our next pet. We live in a 700-square-foot house and more kitty litter boxes wouldn't be a life-style improvement. Forget about cats for me personally, however much I would would like them.
Other changes are neutral but interesting, such as the fact that I give fewer shits about my body hair than ever before, which I'm almost afraid to admit since wives are, within the popular consciousness, certain to \”let themselves go\” at the first opportunity. Of course, \”letting myself go\” only counts in this case if you think body hair is gross or inappropriate, that we don't. And if Patrick were scared of ladyfur, he'd have hit the street years back, anyway. Therefore we can probably tally this one as much as \”Getting older, lazier and more inclined to inform anyone who cares about other's body hair to consume a bag of dicks\” more than anything else.
There's even the fact that now I have joint financial ruin to think about when managing my money, despite the fact that Patrick and I very happily do not share a banking account. This week, Patrick needed a lot of work done on his car; it had been the first time since our wedding that we'd encounter a financial situation that might require joint effort to have an un-fun thing. I found myself amazed to become happy to give him – give, not lend, I believed to myself, in awe of the way my thoughts suddenly grouped us like a unit instead of two individuals – whatever I could.
Sex became a concern to me, after a couple of months as couple, in ways it hadn't been before. Were we having enough of it? With the right amounts of enthusiasm? Was it becoming routine? Complacent? Never before in long-term relationships had I worried about just how much and just what kind of sex I had been having – I had been always having girlfriend sex, the sexy kind! Married sex is supposed to be the boring, infrequent kind. I found 50's housewife narratives I didn't know I'd internalized bubbling towards the surface about how, like a wife, it had been my duty to keep things spicy in the bedroom (or even the kitchen! Or even the living room! Oh god, let's say we're having an excessive amount of sex in the bed and never enough sex around the desk!? Boner apocalypse!). Luckily, the solution to this problem is simply to possess more sex, the best idea solution to any difficulty, ever.
Some changes seem to have became of other people rather than to me or us. For example, my parents: they now plan to provide us with joint birthday presents rather than individual ones. To be fair, Patrick and I have a similar birthday, which means this makes some degree of sense. It makes me feel weirdly like they think we're twins, rather than couples. [Although twins really deserve their very own separate presents. Seriously! — Jessica]
The positive changes? Small, yes, but mighty. There's more often than not a pot of coffee waiting for me in the morning. I've got someone with which to plan elaborate Halloween plans involving a camouflage bush costume and scaring the pants off some kids. Someone to hand me my soft towel following a shower after i realize I've left it within the other room – for life.
And because Patrick and that i grew up in wildly different places – at least, I consider suburban North Texas and Bay area to become wildly different – I've acquired a whole host of new and respectable sports alliances, which any North Texan let you know is useful when you have been depending on the Rangers and the Cowboys for long, sad, disappointing many years of long sadness. Why don't we go Giants! Oh lord, it still hurts just a little, though.
There's even the feeling of groundedness Now i feel. Throughout my life, I felt excited by my insufficient ties to any one individual or place, but additionally a little bit unnerved because of it. Now, with Patrick as my husband, I feel like I've an anchor of sorts. Not one that weighs me down or keeps me static, but one that may be my support wherever life sweeps us.
The biggest change, I suppose, is that I'm happier than That i have ever been.