Marriage is a tricky deal. You’d probably question the theory given all the happy posts from newlyweds on Facebook and Instagram, but the truth is when people tell you it’s hard work – they’re right. It’s hardwork and it can be gross.
The other day I posted to my Snapchat about a particularly exciting weekday night wherein I had just finished about four loads of laundry that I had no energy to fold that night and had thusly poured out onto our floor to be dealt with the day after. On looking at the pile the next day, my husband and I tackled it with fervor. And that is marriage folks – folding boatloads of laundry because the days of the work week just don’t allow for such nonsense. It was here on the floor of our small apartment that made me get up, snap a picture and caption it, “this is marriage”. My husband sitting on the floor surrounded by a mixture of mine and his underwear, yoga pants, button ups, and t-shirts. Lots of t-shirts.
Last night I cooked a new recipe for dinner – an unusual feat that I often leave to hubby because of the decision fatigue I commonly find myself in at the end of the work day. I came home to George cleaning up my mess and emptying the fridge of all the food that had gone bad: hummus, honeydew, yogurt – the stuff you leave as long as possible because you know how bad it’s gone but don’t want to deal. That’s marriage. Dealing with the messy stuff because you love each other and want happiness for all involved even if it means a half an hour walk to the apartment building laundry room.
Those kinds of things go unmentioned. Marriage is equated to travelling the world, large diamonds, and flowers that he’s brought home. Our idea of marriage is embodied by shows like The Bachelorette – but I’m coming to the realization that marriage is sometimes the gross stuff you do when you don’t want to do it. You do it anyway because that's marriage.