I've been married not quite as long as many of you out there have been. I'm like Leo, a late bloomer, that is when I decide to even wear bloomers. Hate the damn things, always cutting off your circulation, and they are either too small or too large. Perfect isn't even in the vocabulary.
However, I'm not here to talk about bloomers or the lack thereof.
June will make my seven year anniversary. Feeling itchy yet? Let me tell you, if there were any itches to be found, I think it would have happened long before seven years. Why wait seven years to scratch an itch anyway? And if you're going to be itchy, why marry someone you're allergic to in the FIRST place?
Anyway, I lived my life in reverse, I suppose. I had my daughters, reared them as a single mom for ten plus years, and then met my husband. He fit in well, so we decided to keep him. We've been together for about 8 years or so, six of them as dearly beloveds. And while it has been quite a lovely trip for us all, we've had our share of speed bumps, pot holes, and hole in the walls (yes, throwing shoes and chairs across the room can often create holey results). Add three more offspring to the mix, stir and serve chilled over ice and there is my family. Love them. All of them.
A friend of mine went the complete opposite route. She went to college, married, created offspring, became employed, careered, and after 17 odd years...divorced. She's entering the world I left not so long ago. Dating, searching, dividing, and conquering. But the thing is, when you're originally single (completely...like no kids...no ex husband), the "world" is different. Your view on relationships is different. It is easier to date because you don't have that instant reflex of fidelity, commitment, relationship, stop screwing around with other people, kind of attitude. Your attitude on relationships is still on "marriage" mode because for the longest time that is what you had. Get it? It's hard getting back that "single" lifestyle. You probably don't even like the guy you're dating "that" much, but for the last ten to fifteen years, you've only been with one guy, so that is what you know.
Weird, isn't it, when you think about it.
Last week, Kathleen, over at Easy for Me, asked about the differences between solitude and loneliness. I think having that person with you for the longest time, sharing routines, responsibilities, and the bed suddenly up and get can leave you to the path of both. My friend, the one who left her marriage of upteen years, is experiencing both: the peace of solitude that comes from making a decision that was right for her family as well as her, and the loneliness of not having someone there to share with: the day, the night, the waking moments, and the sleeping moments.
So, here's to you, chicky. May you wake up between the sheets and say WTF, I'm cooler than that.