Here’s what I’ve been up to. (Or, here’s why I’ve been totally MIA from all of my blog-related duties since the beginning of May.)
I turned 27 in mid-May, even though I keep thinking I’m 28. (28 should be really easy, then.) One friend said 27 still counts as “mid-twenties,” and I like the sound of that. It was a wonderful birthday and I felt really loved, which is all I can really ask for. Also, I got to drink a lot of wine and eat a lot of s’mores, which is also all I can really ask for, so life is great.
We were so close to having a house—and then the seller backed out. That’s been stressful, and difficult, and pretty emotional. You don’t expect that to happen just days before you’re scheduled to close, leaving your wallet thousands of dollars lighter with nothing to show for it (except an item on your “to do” list that now says “take seller to small claims court”), and making it so you’re scrambling to find a new place to live.
It sucks, but the really crappy, hard part is almost over. I’m excited to get past this part and look back with Bill and say, “Remember that time when we were almost homeless? Crazy, right?!”
At least we’ve got this little nugget who puts up with us when we decide to take photos of him hanging out in a box while we pack.
After a year of engagement, and nine years together, Bill and I eloped. It was amazing, and everything I think we both could’ve asked for.
We always knew we’d get married. It was never a question of if, but when. For a while, the only thing stopping us was we worried others would think we were too young; after that, the idea of having an actual wedding caused our hesitation. A wedding ceremony just never felt like us.
For a long time, I grappled with that. I tried to convince myself we should have a wedding. I did the research, I listened to what other people thought, I told myself again and again that weddings were what normal people did. Bill was supportive through and through. He would have done anything I wanted (including helping me plan the wedding—t’s 2015, guys!).
But I knew a wedding might really not be for me when one of my best friends, who got engaged three months after us, beamed when she told me she already had a date, venue, and dress picked, and I was sheepishly no closer to having anything figured out.
So we ran away to the beach (the same one in Niantic, CT, where we got engaged) and got married, just the two of us. It was incredible. We were able to focus on how much we loved each other, and I’d be lying if I didn’t admit it was exciting and sweet to know that for just a few days, we were the only two people in the world who knew we were married. Post-elopement, we spent a few blissful days celebrating on the beach.
I think we were both a little nervous to come back and tell everyone the news. It was good news, yeah, but we were worried people might be disappointed or upset or even a little hurt by our decision. Thankfully, everyone has been overwhelmingly kind, supportive, and loving (although I haven’t quite figured out yet if “You did it your way” is meant as a positive or a negative—I’m opting to go with the former).
And I’m now a wife. And I have a husband. And it’s totally crazy and right all at the same time.