Not everyone* is built for the story of adventures or super-mega-career-intensity told to us** that we should be doing (or maybe I’m spending too much time on the internet
and not enough time around traditional old ladies who seem to tell people in
stories and movies to settle down and this is a fake problem I'm creating for myself inside my head). Sometimes all we*** want is somewhere safe and
familiar to base ourselves in. What is wrong with wanting to settle down? With
wanting to put down roots and settle into comfortable routines of life? (Nothing. The answer is nothing.)
I was born too practical a person for reckless adventure. If I won a million
dollars, even as a small child, my plan was to pay for my college education and
then for my sisters. Now, I would add probably a house for myself and pay off
my loans and my husband’s loans.**** I would never go vaguely off and adventuring.
I’m not comfortable in new places (alone) or around new people. I like the familiar. I
like knowing where my meals are going to come from next week and having all the
ingredients and recipes for them prepared ahead of time. All these plans and routines make me HAPPY.
I’ve always been looking for reasonable solutions. There’s
love in the details and negotiations of a slow and steady moving relationship.
I have the letters saved from when my husband and I were dating and discussing
if we wanted to take the next step (of kissing). It was slow and methodical and
reasoned out. I can go back and look at them and while it first lets me know
how young we both were, I can see the care and concern in each carefully typed
letter I have folded into envelopes in the shoebox in my nightstand. There’s
care and concern and thought put into these letters that have been outlines.
As we settle into routines of being married, it is safer and
happier. The first week back was not as great, with jobs and schedules. There
was a person in my place, where it had just been me and my dog before. And the
dog listens to me (mostly) and doesn’t talk ever. I would come home from work
to happy silence. I don’t like change, even when it’s ultimately good change.
But now as we have morning routines (more) figured out and
are falling into patterns of life, it’s getting better and easier. Now that
each moment of the day isn’t something new, there is time to think about the
details of what is going on. Husbands will accommodate quirks that you can’t
ask of roommates—I don’t like not knowing when people will be at my house.
There’s love in the “at the bus stop” texts so that I have time to prepare.
There’s love in the details when we count backwards to plan the timeline of a
weekend day. Or in the weekly planning of meals where we trade each others
dislikes to find meals we both will enjoy. Or in going through the Simpson’s
episodes slowly, every few nights getting to one.
We are falling into patterns now and it’s comfortable and safe
and good. Once you have a pattern and a base, then you can work towards something, because you are safe and can concentrate energy on doing things besides just surviving.
*aka me
**once again, maybe just me
***Pronouns are hard and I don't like using first-person pronouns even when it is clearly appropriate.
****Also, now I know that a million dollars isn't nearly as large of a sum of money as I thought, but I think I'd still be able to get a fair chunk of things out of the way. Or maybe the amount of money will increase in this hypothetical situation I am creating for myself.
Labels: being safe is ok, boyfriend, emotions, fitting in, grad school, me, routine, tradition, travel, when I was younger