This post originally appeared on our old blog, Born to be a Bride.
On more than one occasion, I have overheard my older brother respond to inquiries into his marital status with, “Yes. Very married!” This devoted husband adores his wife (who happens to be my best friend — another story for another day) so wholly and completely, he wants it clearly stated to all who ask. He is not just married. He is very married.
A strange word to put in front of “married,” isn’t it? We often find ourselves “very tired,” “very hungry,” or hopefully, “very happy.” But married is something that you either are or you aren’t, right?
Wrong.
I borrow my brother’s expression today as I sit contemplating the vows my brand-new husband and I took on September the 7th. At this stage in our lives together, the warmth and beauty of that day still washes over us just like the surf on your toes at Westhampton Beach. The word “husband” is new — a replacement for the temporary yet lovely “fiance” and before that, the trusty and exciting “boyfriend,” so filled with promise. Additionally, circling the letter “M” on a doctor’s form where I used to circle “S” is a fun activity punctuated by a private smile.
As newlyweds, we are constantly discovering gateways into married life that are both thrilling and a bit daunting. The idea of filing our taxes jointly is about as far from romantic as one can imagine. Slash, I am a broke writer who usually sees a generous return and he is neither broke nor a writer, so it’s unlikely we’ll get much if anything back this year, despite our joint financial struggles in 2013.
On the flip-side, being introduced as Josh’s wife to his new colleagues at the Christmas party was a thrill. I felt a confidence in these introductions that frankly just wasn’t there when I was the “girlfriend,” shaking hands with women who already had families and eyed my 25-year-old mini-skirt-wearing self with a hint of “we’ll see how long that lasts” disdain.
These days collectively are very exciting, no matter the mundane routine of a slushy train ride to work, the nightly bickering over who gives the dog his final walk, and so on. We just got married. And we are indeed, very married. We are very committed to each other. We are very adamant that any professional drama and social complications will not waft into our marriage and create a rift. Over the years, we will face immeasurable, unforeseeable troubles and challenges. I am sure there will be occasions that will make us feel like we are not only married, but also broken, or damaged, or drifting.
In this newlywed stage it doesn’t take very much to remember that you are very married — however odd the word “husband” might sound in a group of young colleagues or single friends. But I plan to remain very married for the rest of my life — putting Josh and our union over everything else that creeps in and tries to un-very us, tries to push us into separate corners of the life we’ve built together.
They say marriage is work and four months in, ours just isn’t — yet. But when we get there, I’ll be glad to remember that surf washing up on the shore of Westhampton Beach, and yes, those very personal vows that we very much meant. And I will remain, forever, very married.