One of the biggest stereotypes I have ever known in my life is the one where that states every girl has her wedding planned by the time she reaches age thirteen. And yes, I saw how true that was around my friends and even in myself. Heck, when I was thirteen, the game M.A.S.H. was so popular that we even started adding columns that included wedding details. (We added columns for all sorts of different things but those are not relevant to this post despite how fun they were.)
I’ll admit to being one of those girls who dreamed about that perfect wedding. However, I was never the girl who actually planned anything about a wedding. Every wedding I ever fantasized about was different depending on the man waiting for me at the end of that aisle. Different dress cut, different hair, different flowers. You name it, it changed.
The only constant in every wedding I dreamed about was the happiness in my heart and the love we felt for each other. Those are the only two things I needed to marry my perfect man.
I never felt the need to plan anything. I knew that whenever the day came to finally plan my wedding, I would know what I wanted. I would be able to work with my partner to create a beautiful day for the two of us.
As time has gone on, the dream of getting married has faded. I found a man that I love. He makes me happy. I trust him completely. He takes care of me and has blessed me with the most amazing child I could ever dream of. Our life is simple and we are well taken care of. Our families are very helpful and supportive of our efforts to live our lives. I couldn’t ask for more.
When we first started dating, I was told there was a minimum of five years of commitment before marriage could hit the table for discussion. After passing that five year mark, we’ve had short little conversations about it. He’s not ready. I’m not even sure I’m ready. And as far as I can tell, we basically are married.
Mr. H and I are getting very close to having been together for a decade. We have lived together for almost all of that time. We share finances. Mr. H has been kind enough to let me be a stay at home mother, for which I am extremely grateful. Every aspect of our lives appears to be lives of two married people. The only difference between us is that we never had a ceremony or got a legal document saying that we are one party.
I have my dream. I have the happiness and love that were the common ingredients in all my dreams. Yes, I have my dream come true. It’s hard work, I can’t disregard that. But every moment is worth it. Yes, my thoughts and fantasies for a wedding no longer flood my mind on random occasions. (Ok, there will always be that little part of me that keeps dreaming but not as often as it would as a teenager.) I have that relationship. I have that commitment. I’m not married. And guess what? It is all right.