February 28, 2009, photo by Matthias St. John

When I was 24 and Ned was 24, the topic of marriage began appearing before us. There, at our dinner-table somewhere between the cucumber raita and curry. Marriage, suddenly on the lips as we sat on the porch sharing a glass of wine. Everyone says “you just know” and I guess that is somewhat true but there is a lot of just “yeah, it does feel right.” Then spreading your arms, closing your eyes and falling backward, right into the unknown–but sure you’ll be caught by clouds.

So one Saturday when we were 24, Ned–in his acting voice, a decibel too high to be believable–asked me to go to the top of the Sears tower with him. Feeling my chest splotch pink, I put on my acting voice and managed “that sounds great.” At the top of the Sears is the 103rd floor enclosed in large glass windows, overlooking the entire city. We slowly walked the floor in a loop, probably 15 times. He finally knelt, presenting me with a sparkling diamond and his trembling question, the afternoon now slipping into a gold-peach sunset behind him.

24 is young. “Too young.” But what does that mean exactly? That we will fuck it up? That it won’t last? During the first few months of marriage I stacked sleepless hours worried about the future. Will we be married when we’re old? Will I have three more husbands? Would we move to the suburbs and spontaneously combust? As much as I want our relationship to last forever, I’ve got to ask: does it really matter if it doesn’t? Is being together until you are 80 the only way to prove a “successful”  marriage?

I think it is very human error to confuse now with forever or ruminate about the future. But all we have is now, all that matters is that our relationship is currently a source of growth and happiness and that we are putting in a lot of work to further that.

But as pop-culture wisdom goes, you need to go through a process of “knowing yourself” before even thinking about a serious relationship. Yet self-awareness isn’t a linear process. You don’t jump through hoops labeled things like “sexual repression” and “anger at parents” then tah-dahhh, graduate to a  relationship. Self-awareness is a life-long, ever-morphing process. Marriage might happen along the way.

While it may be a stark opposite to pop-song-feminism, being married has actually provided more freedom and support to be myself, accept myself, succeed. Also, taking the focus off finding a mate has put an emphasis on my career and passions. Now that I’m not worrying about relationships and getting laid, I can write about, er, relationships and getting laid.

I think that what you do need to know before you get married is not ultimately who you are as a being but who you are as a spouse. What kind of marriage do you want? What style of communication? What you will do when things get tough, how you will handle each others defenses, sore spots and patterns?

If you’ve ever seen a sitcom with a laugh track you know that marriage has a negative connotation. Apparently married people are supposed to never have enough sex, buy a tacky house with a big mortgage and get fat. But while you are out clubbing with slinky tops taped to your boobs I’m not sitting on my ass eating barbecue, making tedious conversation with in-laws.

Together, Ned and I are not forming into a singular puddle of beliefs and philosophies but rather are allowing ourselves learn what we each believe,  to explore and flourish. It is his raw true self that I love and watching him discover that more and more makes me fall for him over and over.

But it is not really that I think the bed-death jokes are unwarranted, it is that marriage hasn’t caught up with where we, as a generation, are. In previous years marriage was for family, for partnership, marriage was going into business together. But feminism has freed us from a lot of this. We are also looking for partnerships that are about extended romance.

We are uncovering new earth here, those starry-eyed pairs of us who jump, fingers intertwined, into the unknown. And I promise to learn, to push, to see if it is possible to keep that feeling of never wanting to let go. Marriage can be about opening doors rather than closing them. Even at 24.