“When a guy [or gal] is happily married, no matter what happens at work, no matter what happens in the rest of the day, there’s a shelter when you get home, there’s a knowledge that you can hug somebody without them throwing you down the stairs and saying “Get your hands off me”. Being married is like having a coloured television set. You never want to go back to black and white.” (*)
This sums up my thoughts on married life perfectly and from now on, it’s what I’ll answer when people ask me what changes after you tie the knot.
Being someone’s wife was not something that I got accustomed to right away. When I talked about D I kept calling him “my boyfriend”, for which I was always corrected “well, actually he’s you husband now”. There was also that bit of sadness when the wedding was over – it was a day we’d been planning for a year and it was as if I’d only worn my beautiful dress for a second. Our wonderful honeymoon was also over and now this new thing began, this new episode called “then comes marriage”. I couldn’t wrap my head around the notion of being a wife. Then somewhere along the way, between the moment I took off my wedding dress and the moment I noticed the lighter line on the skin of my ring finger, I became used to having a husband, not just a boyfriend. And I loved the difference between the two.
I’ve given this a lot of thought; I’ve asked myself what has changed since last September and there’s something that repeatedly comes to mind: closeness. It’s one of the sweetest things I’ve ever felt – sharing with somebody more than I’ve ever shared with anyone else. I don’t know when this feeling started seeping in my brain but I know that when I’m thinking “this is my husband, this is the man I chose”, I’m happy. Happy we chose one another.
I feel I’m becoming a better person, but I guess peacefully coexisting with someone else entails a process of perpetual growing. I’m more understanding and less of a control freak. But how else, if not by becoming more malleable, would I be able to live with a guy who leaves a trail of socks on the floor lest he forget the way from the kitchen to his desk? Mind you, it’s the same guy who doesn’t share my aversion for 30ft of cables behind said desk… But it’s also the same guy who welcomes me with a bear hug when I come home and who makes me happier than I’ve ever been. I’m loving the coloured television set.
* From here.