“I don’t want to get married until I’m 30.”
Welp, I’m about to turn 25, and if our plan to get married next summer works out, I’ll be saying “I do” at 26. According to the statistics I just googled, this is just about the average age of first marriage for women in the United States.
The reason I wanted to wait until I was around 30 was because my mom always emphasized to me, and I always believed in, the importance of living on your own for awhile and establishing your independence. I also definitely viewed marriage as a sign of “getting old.” Back in the day I envisioned myself as a mostly-single chick throughout my 20s, living in a fantastic apartment and galavanting around NYC with my many friends and many dates. Dreamland, ha.
As it turned out in the real world, I got my stab at living on my own and being independent; in fact I experienced that in a much more extreme way than most people ever do. (But that part of the story is coming later.) For me it turned out that the phrase “When you know you know…” really was true. As I fell in love with Zach, all of my preconceptions about age and marriage changed. I think the first time I knew that he might be “the one” was when I realized that he was the first guy I had ever dated that I could see myself totally scrapping all of my future plans for. Not that he asked me to do that. But waiting until 30 to get married suddenly didn’t matter anymore. Not that we rushed things; as I said in the beginning of our story, we met over three years ago. In fact, I know a lot of our family members think we should have gotten married a long time ago. But we wanted to wait until we were ready. And it turns out, I’m ready a lot sooner than I expected to be.
What else could I possibly close this with besides the most perfectly cheeseball quote ever from “When Harry Met Sally“?
“When you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.”