With Cinderella opting to marry a jam-maker because her Prince was actually trying to behead her.
Seriously, I got quite worried when, two months before my own wedding, I still couldn't think of a metaphor for it. Weird as it may seem, when I am struck by something beautiful---an experience or feeling, I can always liken it to something else. There will always be something tangible that can represent its depth. But whenever I think of my wedding, of my coming marriage, of my supposed happy ever after, there was only this void. A blank that you kind of know what to fill with, but at the moment, the answer chooses to chill somewhere at the vortex of your brain.
And then one weekend, I finally got to experience the Tree Drop Adventure that my adrenaline-crazy self couldn't wait to try. I was draped in what feels like 5 kilos of safety gears and then they asked me to stand on a tiny platform that could send me to my death with one major misstep. The excitement was mounting and I felt like my insides were being stir-fried. I removed my feet from the platform and I was floating 70 feet from the ground with my hands clutching the metal pole. I was OK until I opened my eyes and realized that I was going to fall to this muddy ground full of moss. That was when fear started to choke my throat. I was telling this man that I can't do it anymore and I was already climbing back to the platform. My father was already laughing and telling me, "Nakakahiya ka Chang, 25 ka na! Kaya mo na yan!" And I very much wanted to send him spiraling into a tree drop, too, so he would know just how scary it feels.
Right then and there, as the staff was trying to remove my fingers one by one so that they could drop me off that height, I was reminded of my wedding. I remember thinking, "Oh so this is how it's like. You think it's everything you ever wanted in life, but when life gives you a glimpse of where you'd actually land, you would realize how scary it really is--to plunge somewhere so uncertain, there would be no such thing as comfort zone."
I was dropped, anyway. And I screamed so loud, several birds flapped away from the nearby trees.
Back on the ground, I was so shaken that I remained suspended for a good thirty seconds with my eyes closed until someone respectfully told me to stand already. And like everything else that didn't kill me, it did make me feel stronger in the end--in a rockstar kind of way. I would've done it the second time that day if only I had the money.
Even after the high of that experience left me, I still kept thinking about how insane I had likened it to being married, which, by the way, is an insanity in itself. People, young and adult (but still stupid) alike, often think it's a playhouse. A fulfillment of a childhood dream of being with your prince or princess. For perverts, it's a chance to have sex with a person whenever or wherever you want sans the fear of getting or getting her pregnant. For the insecure, it's a good cage to trap your loved one so he/she wouldn't get away anymore. Well, at least not easily.
Every single one of these is true about marriage and a lot more.
My fiance and I have been sort of living in for almost two months now. This is with my parents' consent, of course. In the words of my mother, "It's not that I trust him so much that's why I let you. I do, but most importantly, it's because I trust you." She even stayed with me for a while just so she can give me some advice about being a wife, a homemaker, a mother. I'm lucky to have learned all these from my own mother. She does know best.
It's true that you can't claim to know your partner so much until you've lived together under one roof. I've known him since high school, but I didn't realize how often he could fart in a day until now. It's disgusting, really, but tolerable.
I guess getting married is very much like being born again. You may not realize it yet, but regardless of your age, singlehood is still a protective placenta that shields you from the realities of commitment. It's an invisible comfort zone that you would only be aware of once the water has been broken and you're finally out of your safe bubble. After that, welcome to the world of responsibility. Yes, a spank on your baby butt helps.
I didn't realize the importance of culinary skills until my fiance requested for a dish. I never took cooking seriously before because my father does this for us all the time. I didn't even know how to cook rice. I learned about a dish or two but forgot them as soon as I got buried in my work. I mean, I
could cook up a transfer activity for verb tenses in a matter of minutes, but a dish out of raw ingredients? Too complicated.
But then I think one of the best things about being married would be stumbling upon bits and pieces of your who you can still become. I used to think that being a homemaker is a disgrace to the career woman that I am, but then I realized that taking care of the ones you love is an art in itself. Something that you also need to learn and execute with passion. It's quite amazing, really. I am actually watching myself grow personally out of love for another person.
Love is always like that, I guess. By lighting others, you unknowingly stoke your own fire.
I don't believe in making sacrifices for love. Sacrifice is doing something against your will, but because of some sentimental reasons, you do it anyway. I like the idea of learning to want something because it makes the other person happy. I entered this relationship as a complete person with a complete set of principles, which I acquired, forged and decided upon, I will not compromise who I am for anyone else, not even for my husband.
You know, even if you tell yourself that you won't put up with his shit, you have to realize that he's trying to put up with your shit, too. So be kind enough to meet the other person halfway, because you BOTH decided to live a life together for the rest of your lives.
I'm yet to learn to like his desire to drink alcohol with friends on weekdays, though. And as long as I still could not, he's gotta put up with my shitty mood and tantrums. Haha. Work both ways.
There's a long, long way to go. What I am now seeing is a tip of the tip of the huge iceberg underneath. I'm taking it one day at a time. Everything is better that way. Single and married life alike.
If love is an ocean, so impenetrable and vast, is marriage a boat that safely harbors you to the nearest port and save you from possible drowning? I bet not. I say marriage is a diving gear that lets you explore all its wonders, beautiful madness, deadly secrets and never-ending depth. The best part? You are not alone. :)
-------
Love your neighbor as you love yourself. It does not hurt to keep in mind: as you love yourself. Only a complete person can love someone else completely. The Lord knows. I love you as I love myself. And you know how vain I am, right?
And then one weekend, I finally got to experience the Tree Drop Adventure that my adrenaline-crazy self couldn't wait to try. I was draped in what feels like 5 kilos of safety gears and then they asked me to stand on a tiny platform that could send me to my death with one major misstep. The excitement was mounting and I felt like my insides were being stir-fried. I removed my feet from the platform and I was floating 70 feet from the ground with my hands clutching the metal pole. I was OK until I opened my eyes and realized that I was going to fall to this muddy ground full of moss. That was when fear started to choke my throat. I was telling this man that I can't do it anymore and I was already climbing back to the platform. My father was already laughing and telling me, "Nakakahiya ka Chang, 25 ka na! Kaya mo na yan!" And I very much wanted to send him spiraling into a tree drop, too, so he would know just how scary it feels.
Right then and there, as the staff was trying to remove my fingers one by one so that they could drop me off that height, I was reminded of my wedding. I remember thinking, "Oh so this is how it's like. You think it's everything you ever wanted in life, but when life gives you a glimpse of where you'd actually land, you would realize how scary it really is--to plunge somewhere so uncertain, there would be no such thing as comfort zone."
I was dropped, anyway. And I screamed so loud, several birds flapped away from the nearby trees.
Back on the ground, I was so shaken that I remained suspended for a good thirty seconds with my eyes closed until someone respectfully told me to stand already. And like everything else that didn't kill me, it did make me feel stronger in the end--in a rockstar kind of way. I would've done it the second time that day if only I had the money.
Even after the high of that experience left me, I still kept thinking about how insane I had likened it to being married, which, by the way, is an insanity in itself. People, young and adult (but still stupid) alike, often think it's a playhouse. A fulfillment of a childhood dream of being with your prince or princess. For perverts, it's a chance to have sex with a person whenever or wherever you want sans the fear of getting or getting her pregnant. For the insecure, it's a good cage to trap your loved one so he/she wouldn't get away anymore. Well, at least not easily.
Every single one of these is true about marriage and a lot more.
My fiance and I have been sort of living in for almost two months now. This is with my parents' consent, of course. In the words of my mother, "It's not that I trust him so much that's why I let you. I do, but most importantly, it's because I trust you." She even stayed with me for a while just so she can give me some advice about being a wife, a homemaker, a mother. I'm lucky to have learned all these from my own mother. She does know best.
It's true that you can't claim to know your partner so much until you've lived together under one roof. I've known him since high school, but I didn't realize how often he could fart in a day until now. It's disgusting, really, but tolerable.
I guess getting married is very much like being born again. You may not realize it yet, but regardless of your age, singlehood is still a protective placenta that shields you from the realities of commitment. It's an invisible comfort zone that you would only be aware of once the water has been broken and you're finally out of your safe bubble. After that, welcome to the world of responsibility. Yes, a spank on your baby butt helps.
I didn't realize the importance of culinary skills until my fiance requested for a dish. I never took cooking seriously before because my father does this for us all the time. I didn't even know how to cook rice. I learned about a dish or two but forgot them as soon as I got buried in my work. I mean, I
could cook up a transfer activity for verb tenses in a matter of minutes, but a dish out of raw ingredients? Too complicated.
But then I think one of the best things about being married would be stumbling upon bits and pieces of your who you can still become. I used to think that being a homemaker is a disgrace to the career woman that I am, but then I realized that taking care of the ones you love is an art in itself. Something that you also need to learn and execute with passion. It's quite amazing, really. I am actually watching myself grow personally out of love for another person.
Love is always like that, I guess. By lighting others, you unknowingly stoke your own fire.
I don't believe in making sacrifices for love. Sacrifice is doing something against your will, but because of some sentimental reasons, you do it anyway. I like the idea of learning to want something because it makes the other person happy. I entered this relationship as a complete person with a complete set of principles, which I acquired, forged and decided upon, I will not compromise who I am for anyone else, not even for my husband.
You know, even if you tell yourself that you won't put up with his shit, you have to realize that he's trying to put up with your shit, too. So be kind enough to meet the other person halfway, because you BOTH decided to live a life together for the rest of your lives.
I'm yet to learn to like his desire to drink alcohol with friends on weekdays, though. And as long as I still could not, he's gotta put up with my shitty mood and tantrums. Haha. Work both ways.
There's a long, long way to go. What I am now seeing is a tip of the tip of the huge iceberg underneath. I'm taking it one day at a time. Everything is better that way. Single and married life alike.
If love is an ocean, so impenetrable and vast, is marriage a boat that safely harbors you to the nearest port and save you from possible drowning? I bet not. I say marriage is a diving gear that lets you explore all its wonders, beautiful madness, deadly secrets and never-ending depth. The best part? You are not alone. :)
-------
Love your neighbor as you love yourself. It does not hurt to keep in mind: as you love yourself. Only a complete person can love someone else completely. The Lord knows. I love you as I love myself. And you know how vain I am, right?
