The First Twenty-Some Years

So here's the dirt. I'm a young, twenty something, newly married, trying to figure out what she's going to do with her life, thinks too much girl. Aside from the fact that my only sister was diagnosed with Schizophrenia when I was seven, my life has been pretty easy. I'm talking never divorced, church-going parents. I've had a 4.0 my whole life. My parents aren't rich by any means, so I've had to get part time jobs here and there. I've had to take out school loans, but besides that I've always had comfortable living arrangements with college friends. My family had their fair share of crap, but my mom did a really good job at protecting me from all of that, emotionally.

I met this boy. He rocked my world. If I dreamed up the most perfect person for me, I couldn't have come up with anything more. However, during this time, I struggled with the obligatory eating disorder that comes along with being a "good girl" in America these days. I credit him with pulling me out of denial and, consequently, out of my crappy way of dealing with my problems. He was my first kiss, my first serious relationship, and my first love. I saved everything for him, and I love that about us. Before too long, we were engaged and planning the most amazing wedding. I only had one breakdown on the day of the wedding after I dropped my dress in the dirt. But, as is my luck, it came right off. We had an outdoor wedding at dusk. Set in front of a large pond with shepherds hooks filled with flowers, it was absolutely picturesque. When I walked down the aisle and saw my groom's sweet face, I felt beautiful. The sound system went out during my soloist, but otherwise, it was perfect.

Today, we've been married almost two months. We live in a little one-bedroom apartment in our little college town. I make pot-pie and banana bread. He works during the day and at six or seven we have dinner on our tiny oak table with eccentric place mats. He painted a picture to hang above our couch and I'll sew some seat cushions for our breakfast room table. It's all very quaint. Other aspects of our relationship are really great as well ;) We're stuck in between the young, single life and the grown-up working life. I will be embarking on the "real job" hunt at the end of the year and he will continue on with graduate school.

I don't live in New York City. Neither of us have established jobs and are, therefore relatively poor compared to many other newlyweds. I'm graduating with a fairly useless degree (thanks to poor advising). But if the worst I have to endure is loans, a short-lived eating disorder, and a sucky sound system on my wedding day, then I think I'm doing okay. Yeah, it's been a pretty easy life. Yet, I've struggled with it all along. Outwardly, things are great. Inwardly, I've struggled with insecurities and fear for most of my life. You'd think, after twenty-some-odd years, that I would have started to master that stuff. I suppose I've been able to push it aside for the most part. It's only just recently hit the fan though. Now I'm facing the identity crisis of the twenties, the job search, and married life. It all terrifies me honestly. So these are my rantings. These are the thoughts of a messy, comlicated girl learning to be a woman who, despite all appreances, does not have it all together. Only by grace have I made it this far.