I have a couple family members who don’t want me to get married. It’s not about Dean–who they love. It’s about me.
They read my blog post about wanting to keep my family name. That was a big red flag to them. I’m too independent. I’m not ready. Early on, I shared the fights we’ve had in our relationship. These past arguments are now used as weapons. Even though that was in the past, they can’t let go of it. No matter how much I insist that we’ve worked on our conflict resolution.
Today, during Mother’s Day, one of those family members pulled me aside and reiterated her concern that I wasn’t ready to get married. I staunchly vouched that I was, that we were ready, that I love Dean, that I was committed to this. Instead of being happy, she was upset! She frowned and shook her head. I honestly think if I’d said things were not working out, she would have smiled.
“Are you really ready?”
Is anyone ever completely ready?
We had this creed in Berkeley right before science exams, ‘Always bring your textbooks and notes. Keep studying until you crack open the exam. Because there’s always something you can learn.’ You can say that you’re ready, but you never know what the professor is going to slyly throw in. So how can you say you’re ready if there are so many unknowns. The same goes for marriage. The same goes for anything. Is the president of the United States ever really prepared? Nonsense! That’s why he pads his cabinet with people like Hillary Clinton. He has a cadre of advisors. He gets counseled. The same shit happens in marriage.
I am 34-years-old. I have been making decisions my whole life. I understand this is a big one, but it’s one that I accept. If I didn’t want to get married, I wouldn’t get married. If I didn’t feel I was ready, then I’d pull back. I’m a grown girl. Don’t tell me what to do.