I became a we, uniquely.

I'm not entirely sure what my expectations of marriage were before May 31st. 

Regardless, on May 31st 2014, 

I became a "we."

Now, before you get the wrong opinion, being a "we" is a wonderful and fulfilling feeling. It's not at all cause for losing independence or your voice. In fact, I think it may have made me louder to be heard, fight for what I want, and what matters in my book while learning what a respectful compromise looks like.

I became a we on date nights out to the movie asking what we will be seeing. I'm a we telling my hair stylist what we like to do on Saturday nights (catch up on our shows together and make smoothies, duh). I'm not sure I knew how much it would change my life, while at the same time feel so completely familiar, so comfortable and nature. I'm not sure I realized how scared I was, or how much I listened to those stereotypes even as I told myself I wasn't. I'm not sure I fully absorbed the advice everyone gave me, the cautions, or "just you wait until..." I heard all the "don't let him," "don't forget to" and my all-time favorite "just wait until you've been living with that for thirty years."

Aaron Huberty Photography

But the truth is, I was as ready as I would ever be. Much like first time mothers I suppose, I read the books. I knew all the information, all the scenarios, everything you should talk about beforehand (things like finances and fights). I'd heard friends tell me about their hardest or happiest parts of marriage, knowing full well mine may be the same, but most likely completely different. And they have been. Each of those. Yeah, we bicker about the stereotypical things all married couples do, there's a reason those are stereotypes. But we have our own things, our own stuff. Completely unique to us.

We really do have our own share of problems, arguments, victories. And I think my expectations were wrong, that amidst all the advice or cautions, I never realized that my marriage is my own, completely unique to everyone else's in the world.

Aaron Huberty Photography

And maybe, that's what they don't tell you in counseling or in those books. Your marriage is unlike anyone else's in so many ways.

I guess here's the point where you and I both go well...duh.

But hear me out. You both are not just another statistic or stereotype. And they're not "all the same" (okay we know the they I'm talking about and some of the time they really are). Some arguments may be similar to your friends, but they don't fight the same way you do. Or they don't forgive the way you do. My marriage and my home is a joining of two very unique people. We live differently than our friends, we make different choices, we handle problems differently. Though people are similar, couples are similar; every single marriage is different.

And that is okay.

What I'm trying to get at is that my marriage is not that of ten other people giving me advice, my marriage is not my friends' or my parents' marriage, it's not the same as the ones I read in books or see in movies.

And for that, I am grateful. 

I am grateful that I get to live and learn along the way, that I get to do life with this other human being whom I have pledged my heart and my life to. That all of our mistakes and problems are our own, that we get to figure them out along the way, just us. That we know us and know the other person the best way possible, and maybe even sometimes in the worst ways.

But knowing that our marriage is uniquely ours, that we're not a copyright of someone else's

is a refreshing feeling.