Ever since Kelly and I started dating, bookstores have been a staple of our relationship.We're both book lovers who refuse to get Kindles. So it just makes sense that many of our dates have found us wandering used book stores or spending hours lost in Borders. When we meet up in Ann Arbor once a week, we usually meet at a Borders downtown and spend a few hours browsing before heading out for coffee or on a walk.
A few weeks back, we were out at a Barnes and Noble on a rainy Saturday, killing time before a movie. Walking down the aisles Kelly asked if she could take a break and look around on her own for a few minutes. I think I had to use the restroom (I usually do) so I had no problem wandering away, thinking nothing of it.
About 20 minutes later, out of the blue, Kelly made a confession. She likes walking around bookstores on her own, getting lost in the different offerings. Ever since we'd started dating, we'd basically looked at bookstores together, not leaving each other's sides. She felt that she had lost a bit of her identity in that, losing something that she loved doing. And she confessed that it was a fear she had of marriage--losing some of her independence and individuality.
I'll confess that until that moment I had no idea she felt that way about the bookstores. And in all honesty, had I known that, I would have made sure that when we went into one we took time to browse on our own before meeting back up. As much as I love looking at books and browsing DVDs and CDS with her, I love to get lost on my own just as much. And I assured her I would definitely keep that in mind on future outings.
But I'm glad she brought it up. Because the fear of losing individuality and independence once we're married is one I share as well.
I know it's not a unique fear, but I have a hunch it might be stronger among those who get married in their late 20s or early 30s.
As I've stated before, there is a huge difference between being single and 21 and single and 30.
And the issue of independence is one of those.
In your early 20s, you really haven't had much of a chance to build up your routines. You've probably spent four years in college surrounded by friends and chances are that your early twenties are simply spent surviving at a job, living paycheck to paycheck and going out on the weekends with friends. I'm not saying there aren't sacrifices to your independence that are made when you marry young, but there's less of an established routine and lifestyle at that age.
But by the time you hit 30, you've established who you are a bit more. You have passions, hobbies and outside interests. You have church groups, sports teams and other responsibilities you're involved in. You like certain movies, books or music. You have a set routine: home by 5, dinner by six, hit the gym and spend the evening writing or watching TV before going to bed at 11. On Saturdays I have a routine of waking up in the morning, having coffee while catching up with DVR'd television shows, napping in the afternoon and spending some time catching up on chores.
Getting married, you're bringing another person into that life. And they have their set routines and patterns. Where I might close the evening out with "The Daily Show" or "Conan," Kelly might choose to go to bed by 10:30 or read a book. Where I might be content to wake up and have an early coffee on Saturdays and then spend the afternoon on the couch watching DVDs, she might prefer to sleep in and spend the afternoon doing something active. I like zombie movies; she likes Jane Austen novels--and I've been informed "Pride and Prejudice and Zombies" doesn't count.
The obvious truth is that marriage means we'll both have to acquiesce to another's routines and sacrifice a bit of our independence. It might mean I DVR "Daily Show" or that we alternate our Saturday routines. It might mean that when one of us wants to spend an evening alone in our thoughts but the other needs some affection and attention, we sacrifice our me-time to take care of the other person. I've always been told the first year of marriage is the hardest and I can predict that the simple task of changing your long-established routines and habits to live with another person might be one of the most difficult aspects.
And that's all to be expected and, to be honest, is part of the fun. I'm looking forward to learning to do life with Kelly. One upshot of us only really getting to be together on the weekends is that we've had opportunities to be together just doing life. And sometimes it's frustrating, hectic and stressful as we try to juggle her schoolwork, my family responsibilities and other things into that. And other times, such as this weekend, we have a relaxing time of going out on our own and then spending time together going shopping, cooking dinner and then cuddling on the couch with a movie. That's the fun stuff.
As willing as I am to sacrifice aspects of my independence for the much-greater experience of doing life with Kelly, I also have to admit that I don't want to lose my individuality.
Truth is, I like my zombie movies. I like being a film and television junkie. I like taking an hour or so on a weeknight to blog in solitude or a Friday every few weeks to hang out with my guy friends. Those are things that make me who I am. And when I'm married, I don't want to sacrifice those.
I don't want to enjoy them at the expense of loving Kelly, and I think that's where balance will be an important part of marriage. But I do still want to do the things I love and pursue the interests that I have. They're the things that make me me. And where I can share them with Kelly, I want to do that. But I also know there are certain points where Kelly won't want to share that experience or where it will simply stay my own (I'm fairly certain we won't be watching Dawn of the Dead together any time soon). And I want to know that she'll be okay with that, and that she'll want me to be able to enjoy those things because they were the things that made me who I am; the man who she wants to marry.
And I can safely say that's what I want of her.I've grown up Baptist and have always had friends around me saying that they never wanted their wives to work. "When I'm married," they'd say, "my wife is going to stay home. Because that's her job."
My position has never been that way...and not just because I've been fairly certain that I wouldn't be in a situation to live on one income. I've always wanted my wife to do what she felt fulfilled doing. If she had a career that she loved and felt that she wanted to work and put her skills to use, I wanted her to do that. Because that is a part of her identity and what makes her the person I fell in love with. I don't want that to change. I want her to go out and do what God has equipped her for and to feel fulfilled at the end of the day. I want to hear stories about her work and her accomplishments, to pray with her after struggles and rejoice with her after on-the-job victories.
And in the same vein, I never want Kelly to lose the things that make her so unique. I never want the individual I fell in love with to disappear. I want her to have time to read Jane Austen novels. I want her to write and pursue the creative projects she loves. I want her to be able to take some time and go on a long walk by herself. Because I want her to come back and tell me the stories, tell me what she did and share those experiences with her.
This weekend, Kelly is going away with some college friends. It will be the first weekend we've been apart in close to a year. It's going to be a weird experience and I'm going to miss her terribly.
But at the same time, I'm happy that we have this weekend. For her, it gives her a chance to travel with friends she rarely sees. She's going to take a trip and come back with pictures, stories and a whole host of new experiences. I can't wait to hear those stories and sit with her over coffee and talk about them.
For me, it means I'll have to spend the weekend alone. And it would be easy to get depressed and feel lonely about that. But at the same time, I realize I'll probably do okay. I'll stack up the DVDs and pizza rolls and engage in a three-day movie marathon. Maybe I'll hang out with some friends. I'll catch up on my reading or writing. And I'll make use of the time to do things I enjoy and then I'll have stories to tell Kelly as well (mine won't be nearly as cool as hers, though). And then the next weekend we'll be back together, spending time together and enjoying each other's company.
I don't know how it's going to work balancing a necessary dependence on each other with a healthy dose of independence. I'm sure it will be tricky at times. I'm sure there will be times where one of us feels suffocated and needs to get out a bit. I'm sure there will be other times where one of us will be doing our own thing and we'll inadvertently neglect the other and we'll have to deal with that. It's going to be messy for a bit, I'm sure. And eventually we'll get a routine together that works for both of us.
But that balance of dependence and independence is so necessary to strike. Because while we both need each other and the strong bond that a married couple has, the truth is we also both fell in love with independent individuals who can teach us, challenge us and show us new experiences.
It's going to be an interesting ride.
--CW
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