A year ago today, I was sitting comfortably by the gas fireplace in my ski lodge, cares and worries tucked neatly away. I had probably just cooked something delicious and was sipping a beer from one of the many local breweries. The snow came and went and came back again, and as a non-skier I couldn’t care less as long as I didn’t have to drive in it. I shopped and worked and relaxed and hit the hot tub and enjoyed fresh air for 2 months before heading back to the big New York City.
When I came back, I pictured 3-6 months in a city apartment and then a re-evaluation of the landscape, of my needs, and of the people in my life that I cared to be near. I was wrong about my expectations, and learned quickly that expectations often lead to disappointment, or better yet, pleasant surprises.
One year after the 2011 whirlwind of living in 4 different states, cross-crossing the U.S. several times, plus new friends and lovers and a fully formed business under my belt, I’m making the biggest move of all – into a new apartment with my man.
It still doesn’t seem real to me, and is definitely something I’ve categorically been against my whole life, especially after reading article upon article about the rising divorce rate and how people who move in together before they get married have higher chances of divorcing. Every time I heard a friend tell me they were shacking up with someone, I waited for their imminent demise. Some of the time, it seemed to work out. In fact, the friend who last consulted with me before her move is now engaged after a year of cohabitation. That’s probably not the norm though, and I’ve seen lots of people who end up tearing their hair out, throwing pots and pans at each other, and feeling generally miserable.
2 years ago today, I was listening to stories of friends finding boys to make out with in sweaty clubs. I was counting down the days until the weekend when I could sip champagne and wear my new outfits and flirt with strangers. Now I’m deciding which desk to order from Amazon, which nonstick pans to get from Target, and whether or not we should stop at Whole Foods today.
And being an adult. And understanding what it’s like to be someone who thinks and talks about things like this. And having the daily meltdowns and identity crises and cry fests, only to find my man here, holding me up, reminding me that we’re strong and smart and can thrive now because we’re together. As we have, and as we will.
Love, along with the unknown, truly is a wonderful thing.