So a year on from tying the knot, I’ve been reflecting a fair amount about how things have changed and the journey we have been on.
You learn a whole other side to the person you love and yourself when you move in with them. No matter how much time you spend together or how well laid your plans are, nothing quite prepares you.
If you’ve ever lived in a shared house, some of the niggles you’ll know already. wet towels left lying; dishes; laundry, they all seem to sit for an eternity more than you think you would leave them. And it irks that it’s not your mess entirely either.
Also, whilst I wouldn’t change it for the world; perhaps getting a dog (puppy) the day you come home from honeymoon (literally) isn’t the best idea either. You immediately get into toilet training and behavioural training etc, etc. Good training for having kids; certainly makes you take your time having them!! Better yet – why not get two!! (dogs) and start toilet training all over again.
I found myself feeling like I was losing part of my identity that I had had on my own – my individualness, not my individuality per se, but a part of myself that used to be all mine – and now that I was sharing my space, myself, I was struggling to find where my identity sat within it all. How do you be yourself while also too now being Mrs Wife, Daughter in Law, Mother to two wee dogs (in a manner of speaking) and responsible for keeping a house in order. You’re no longer responsible for just yourself, pleasing yourself, looking after yourself – even in the way you do when you’re a girlfriend or fiancee, it’s different. Different now you live with someone – shared responsibilities. Shared life.
It’s an adjustment that every couple has to make in some shape or form, especially so for me, as Craig had worked away during the weeks in London for a year or so before we got married. I was very used to my own company, my own space and not having to deal with or think about anyone else when I had finished work for the day. Craig worries when I’m too quiet, and we have had to meet halfway between him realising that it’s just the way I am in the everyday – not just when I haven’t seen him all week, and between me realising that my husband needs me to talk to him to be reassured that I’m ok!
They say that the first year or years of marriage are the hardest, and they’re not wrong. But as my mum says, the good still needs to outweigh the hard and difficult. And fortunately for us, I believe it always does. I wouldn’t change a thing about my (our) life together – not even when Mouse chews the door frames or pees on the kitchen floor despite having spent the last 3 previous days using the dog door (Papi is a golden boy he doesn’t do that anymore lol).
My husband and I are not perfect. We work hard at life and at our relationship. He’s very supportive and loves and provides strength for me beyond words and I do my best to do the same. Some days we succeed and some days we have to swallow our pride and just give eachother a hug at the end of the day and promise eachother that tomorrow will be better.
Love wins out in the end. Always.
I’d love to hear some of your stories, some of your experiences and whether they bear any resemblance to ours!