Skip to main content

Marriage & Other Boring Things

Reason #5 your 30s are actually awesome:

So much stability.

Marriage is hard sometimes. It has taught me about grace. About forgiveness. What it means to defer. How to pick your battles. How to love unconditionally. A lot of tough lessons in 5 short years. You know what’s harder? Dating. Gross. Get your Bumble app away from me. First of all, I don’t even speak chit chat and small talk anymore. I can't market myself. I was talking to friend in church on Sunday about what it would be to date these days. My Match.com site would say something like this "Look dude, I'm too old for you. I'm married. I have a lot of baggage. A baby and stuff. I'm too expensive. Sometimes high maintenance. And I'm 50 shades of crazy." Good thing I'm funny and pretty good cook.
In my last decade, I dated a lot. I also lost interest a lot. My twenties were marked by the nagging voice in my head asking “Is this the right guy for me?” “How do I know if he’s ‘the one’?” “Why didn’t he call me last night?” “Who is that girl in his profile picture from 2006?” For the love of all things. If I ever have to date again, I’ll die.
This is going to come as a shock to all the single ladies. Brace yourselves 20 year old friends. Routine is so great. So much stability and reassurance in the steady ebb and flow of your routine life. There are no surprises. I didn’t grow up with a lot of stability, so I appreciate it so much now. I love waking up to my same husband, with my same morning routine, off to my same job, coming home to workout and do all my routine afternoon things, before I make some routine dinner and prepare all the routine lunches for the next day. We watch our routine tv series, go to bed around the same time. I spend my weekends with my same friends. I go to my same church on Sunday. There is so much sameness in my life. It.Is.GLORIOUS.
In my 20s, that exact life terrified me. So boring. How awful. I craved novelty. Excitement. Adventure. Even now, there is a time and a place for all of those things. Novelty is great. Excitement and Adventure, fo sho. But, not on weekdays. Not after 8 pm. And definitely not if we haven’t talked about it and put on the calendar two months in advance.
There is so much comfort in marriage. So much work, but so worth the investment. You know what? He is The One because I married him. The grass is greener where you water it, so I just walk around with my little water can and sprinkle that shit everywhere. When we get into a fight, I’m not crying asking myself if this is the end? I’m not worried that he’s going to find someone else. He can’t afford a mistress. There is no drama in marriage. It’s the good. The bad. The ugly. It’s giving your husband a random kiss and him replying with “hold on, I gotta poop.”  It is a beautiful, beautiful mess that I wouldn’t trade for all the African Safaris in the world.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

It's All About the App

Boring little intro: First, let me take a moment to thank those who read my last post “Live Life Colorfully.” That post was uncharacteristic of my usual musings. For the next couple of months, I am going to be blogging about my interior design take over. I think that post was important for you to understand where my head is, my motivations, my beliefs behind all of these crazy design choices. **Disclaimer: I have absolutely NO formal design training. Hell, I don’t even have informal design training. My training is rooted in following my heart.** OK, now the fun stuff: For those that know me, this will come as no surprise at all. For those that don’t, I’ll fill you in. I am all about the appetizers. When I sit down at a restaurant, my eyes immediately go to the Starters. Then, to the wine list, of course. Calamari? Yes. Pimento cheese with some kind of bread, um, yeah. Charcuterie tray, bring it. Oysters? Do you even have to ask?  I could literally fill up on ONLY appetizers. Th...
Post a Comment
Read more

This post is about poop.

I started this blog when I was on the brink of turning 30. I just knew really amazing things were on the horizon. I was on the brink of greatness. This next decade would inevitably be a life-changing, climactic, turn of events kind of chapter in this novel of my life. I turn 31 next week. You know what I didn’t expect my 30’s to be filled with...poop. I can honestly say, I never saw this one coming. Don’t get me wrong, there have been some life-changing events. Some climatic and unexpected turn of events. We’ve essentially started a new life since I turned 30. But, it is also filled with a lot of poop. No one ever talked about this. Jennifer Gardner didn’t prepare me for this in Thirteen Going on 30. None of the reality shows alluded to this dark underbelly of the third decade of life. I’m getting it from all sides. I have a toddler, I have a puppy, and weirdly enough, I even deal with this at work. No, I do not work with babies or at a daycare center, or even an elderly ho...
Post a Comment
Read more

Bad and Bougie

According to Urban Dictionary, obviously the only dictionary that matters in 2019, Boujee is defined as High class, flossin’, ballin’. One who possesses swag. Elite. Rich. Use it in a sentence, you ask. Ok: My is bitch is bad and boujee.  A more appropriate definition comes from Dictionary.com: haughty, elitist , snobbish. The origin is from 1965–70, Americanism; shortening and alteration of bourgeois. Ok, enough with the definitions and origin of bougie or boujee, whichever you prefer. I have a friend in Atlanta who moved here around the same time I did. She once said over dinner, “Atlanta is sneaky boujee.” This sentence stuck with me because it.is.so.true.  Atlanta is weird because it is super diverse. Like, some bougie, you totally expect. For example, the entire city of Buckhead. Bougie y’all. Real bougie. But, then there’s the other pockets that give the illusion of hipsterism or granolaism, do not be fooled. Still bougie.  I remember the ex...
Post a Comment
Read more