What it truly means to be married
Bubu often shares that he can tell waht will happen before it will happen, and it is frustrating, amusing and tiring for him to try to caution others against consequences they have yet to foresee. I often felt the same, and although i did not feel that i was able to think ahead as quickly as he could, I thought that I understood what he was saying, and he was at least able to find some solace with me.
After nine months of marriage and more bust-ups than we ever had in the year when we were dating, I now realise that many things he has said about me, even though hard to bear or even unfair, are quite true and have a bearing on my life, his, and most importantly of all, our life together.
it is not easy swallowing humble pie, especially if it comes from someone who knows all your weaknesses, is trying to help you become a better person, and is himself trying to fight his own inner demons. the funny thing is, whenever anyone asks me about my husband or what i think of married life, i can only think of good things. the fact that this occurs to me so naturally and spontaneously makes me believe that i’m not making things up or trying to present only a happy facade to others. indeed, i usually cannot remember why we fight or how we fight once things are cleared up, although each successive battle makes me more and more aware of how i’m not living the way i want to, and i can’t keep promises because i have no idea where and what i stand for (i do, on weighty issues such as abortion or crime, but i don;t seem to have quite decided how i wish to live my life). and this explains why i seem to be able to bring joy to others but seldom myself. i totally understand Bubu’s frustrations, and it must be hell living with someone who seems to rock on operate on the whims of fancy. i feel that he’s a lot like that too, but he is mercurial and broody. what am i? i think i’m just a confused wannabe, fitting in everywhere and nowhere. for a brief spell in teenagehood and early adulthood that was cool, as there was this dynamism that being on the fringe brought, but as i step into my late twenties more so than ever i come to realise why we need to have an identity and a defined sense of self, in order to feel secure and have dreamless sleep and not look back in anger, misery or worst, regret, in our twilight years.
i took a long hard look at myself, deep within where it’s dark murky and fairly disgusting, and realised a few reasons why my marriage, although wonderful and enriching, is still suffering some teething problems:
1. in many ways, i’m still behaving like i’m single. and before i came to this realisation, no wonder Bubu would feel let down whenever i spent money or didnt do something as promised and i was genuinely amazed at his reaction. i felt he was overreacting and simply failed to understand why he was disappointed or upset. the thing is, although we are free to pursue our interests as individuals, being in a marriage also means we are a unit, and before i do something i need to consider the feelings of my spouse, not assume i know how he would feel. this is tricky at times, and i must say he;’s a lot better at taking care of my interests and feelings, since i feel very loved and secure. i made the mistake of being more concerned about my own wants rather than his. and when i couldn’t get i wanted, i blamed it on his insensitivity, his stupid principles, his fixed way of viewing the world on his terms, his inability to understand what i needed—that fact that i was anxious and depressed and lonely to him, just meant that i had to get my act together. and that was a bitter pill to swallow, although it was indeed the only way forward. i think i am spoilt after all. deep down, beneath all my niceness, i am a brat, the only saving grace is that i have learnt to empathise with others and to care that they are happy too, and that keeps my nastiness in check.
To be continued…
