It's finally happening. We are just shy of our two year anniversary and I have finally started thinking of Mihir as family. Why did it take so long you ask? I shall tell you dear reader, but first, let's back up a bit to look at the bigger picture.
To me, getting married was almost anti-climatic, where I kept thinking, I am tying the knot with my boyfriend, but I don't feel like a wife. But once we started our married life together - my OCD self immediately wanted to run this marriage like a new car. Perfectly. However, did we have the knack for it. Hardly.
Now that we were running a marriage, so to speak, I was constantly pulled between all the things my "I-expect-we-are-expected-to-be-doing self" wanted done, the things "real me" wanted to really get-up and do, and things I wanted M to "get" in terms of what he "should " do, to help keep this marriage machine running flawlessly. The first couple of years of the marriage, were in fact quite the opposite of what people call the "best" years. It was a lot of learning, fighting, push-backs and tantrums. Mostly from me.
Hindsight is 20-20 they say. Let's hindsee, shall we? All I wanted was, our marriage to be picture-perfect. That's not asking much. To elaborate, I wanted our home to be spotless all the time. I wanted our laundry always done, folded and put away. I wanted steaming full-course meals on the table every night for us. I wanted both of us to be always laughing, gazing into each other's eyes, lovingly cooking together, while there's music in the background and we are dancing to it. I wanted us to lazily wake up on weekends, make and eat breakfast together in bed. On cold evenings I wanted us to sit wrapped in a blanket together gazing at a fireplace, or the sunset. And let's not forget the playing basketball together at home, where I beat him every time. Or something to that effect (for reference please watch my all-time favorite movie - Saathiya).
So imagine my surprise, when none of this materialized. Far from it, in fact. Our home was most of the time untidy and even worse, not clean. Laundry whether done or not, was always in the laundry basket. More often than not, we were eating take-outs from local restaurants. (On the upside though, I like to think we may have single-handedly saved some places from shutting down during recession). There was never an opportune time to gaze into each other's eyes or lovingly cook together or sing and dance along to a romantic upbeat number. To be fair though, there was indeed some sitting and gazing - sitting on our sofa in the middle of a messy living room and gazing too, but only at the TV.
I kept scores. I counted things I did versus things he did for our marriage-machine to run smoothly. I fought tooth and nail to not do things a married woman is "expected" to do. And this, when M was not even saying and expecting anything to begin with. I just put me in that position all by myself. You know when you think up all the expectations you expect people to have from you and your rebellious self basks in the glory of rebelling against them. Yep. Those.
And M? He kept on loving me the same way since the day we fell in love. No demands, no expectations, no questions, and no arguing or fighting back. He never analyzed getting married. He understood my every tantrum. Maybe that's a wrong word to use. I am pretty sure, he was quite clueless about why I was throwing tantrums all the time, but he took them. With utmost patience and love. Unwavering love that was almost annoying at one point. (Do you have any idea how frustrating it can be when you want to fight and don't get any response back.) Always understanding and always by my side. Always doing everything I asked him to do, without a question. Always willing to learn and adjust to make me happy. Always encouraging me when life was pulling me down. Always willing to take my sh*t when I was pissed off about work. Always attentive and responsive, when I complained we didn't spend enough time together like other couples (who I was talking about, I have no idea, cos what do we really ever know about others' lives, except maybe what's on Facebook). Always humoring me when I decided to be weird.
And then last week, after we had a dinner of leftovers (where we both tried to eat less so that the other person could eat enough), when we were sitting side-by-side on the couch, eating a store bought frozen molten choclate cake and watching "Parks & Recreation", it hit me. This is it, this is what being a family is. Sharing food, molten choclate cake and a laugh, relaxing in our home. Without saying much to each other, yet an unmistakable feeling of connecting, conversing. And this is what marriage has given me, someone who is all mine, my family away from everyone and everywhere. Someone to fight with, make love to, be weird with, get frustrated at, learn to be patient with. I am not giving up my perfect marriage dream boat yet. It's just that perfect is something different than what I imagined. It's this - here and now, time with my husband, my family.
Happy 2nd (as of the new year) Anniversary M! I love you!
To me, getting married was almost anti-climatic, where I kept thinking, I am tying the knot with my boyfriend, but I don't feel like a wife. But once we started our married life together - my OCD self immediately wanted to run this marriage like a new car. Perfectly. However, did we have the knack for it. Hardly.
Now that we were running a marriage, so to speak, I was constantly pulled between all the things my "I-expect-we-are-expected-to-be-doing self" wanted done, the things "real me" wanted to really get-up and do, and things I wanted M to "get" in terms of what he "should " do, to help keep this marriage machine running flawlessly. The first couple of years of the marriage, were in fact quite the opposite of what people call the "best" years. It was a lot of learning, fighting, push-backs and tantrums. Mostly from me.
Hindsight is 20-20 they say. Let's hindsee, shall we? All I wanted was, our marriage to be picture-perfect. That's not asking much. To elaborate, I wanted our home to be spotless all the time. I wanted our laundry always done, folded and put away. I wanted steaming full-course meals on the table every night for us. I wanted both of us to be always laughing, gazing into each other's eyes, lovingly cooking together, while there's music in the background and we are dancing to it. I wanted us to lazily wake up on weekends, make and eat breakfast together in bed. On cold evenings I wanted us to sit wrapped in a blanket together gazing at a fireplace, or the sunset. And let's not forget the playing basketball together at home, where I beat him every time. Or something to that effect (for reference please watch my all-time favorite movie - Saathiya).
So imagine my surprise, when none of this materialized. Far from it, in fact. Our home was most of the time untidy and even worse, not clean. Laundry whether done or not, was always in the laundry basket. More often than not, we were eating take-outs from local restaurants. (On the upside though, I like to think we may have single-handedly saved some places from shutting down during recession). There was never an opportune time to gaze into each other's eyes or lovingly cook together or sing and dance along to a romantic upbeat number. To be fair though, there was indeed some sitting and gazing - sitting on our sofa in the middle of a messy living room and gazing too, but only at the TV.
I kept scores. I counted things I did versus things he did for our marriage-machine to run smoothly. I fought tooth and nail to not do things a married woman is "expected" to do. And this, when M was not even saying and expecting anything to begin with. I just put me in that position all by myself. You know when you think up all the expectations you expect people to have from you and your rebellious self basks in the glory of rebelling against them. Yep. Those.
And M? He kept on loving me the same way since the day we fell in love. No demands, no expectations, no questions, and no arguing or fighting back. He never analyzed getting married. He understood my every tantrum. Maybe that's a wrong word to use. I am pretty sure, he was quite clueless about why I was throwing tantrums all the time, but he took them. With utmost patience and love. Unwavering love that was almost annoying at one point. (Do you have any idea how frustrating it can be when you want to fight and don't get any response back.) Always understanding and always by my side. Always doing everything I asked him to do, without a question. Always willing to learn and adjust to make me happy. Always encouraging me when life was pulling me down. Always willing to take my sh*t when I was pissed off about work. Always attentive and responsive, when I complained we didn't spend enough time together like other couples (who I was talking about, I have no idea, cos what do we really ever know about others' lives, except maybe what's on Facebook). Always humoring me when I decided to be weird.
And then last week, after we had a dinner of leftovers (where we both tried to eat less so that the other person could eat enough), when we were sitting side-by-side on the couch, eating a store bought frozen molten choclate cake and watching "Parks & Recreation", it hit me. This is it, this is what being a family is. Sharing food, molten choclate cake and a laugh, relaxing in our home. Without saying much to each other, yet an unmistakable feeling of connecting, conversing. And this is what marriage has given me, someone who is all mine, my family away from everyone and everywhere. Someone to fight with, make love to, be weird with, get frustrated at, learn to be patient with. I am not giving up my perfect marriage dream boat yet. It's just that perfect is something different than what I imagined. It's this - here and now, time with my husband, my family.
Happy 2nd (as of the new year) Anniversary M! I love you!
