A Post I Never Shared: The Lonely Side of Young Married Life
I recently came across a post in my “drafts” folder that I never shared with you. It’s from October 2013. I was 27 and had been married two years. I was among the first of my friends to get married, and at the time most of my friends were single or dating. I felt like I was part of the minority.
I’m actually not sure why I never shared it – if it was because it felt too honest, or if it was just never finished. But it feels worth sharing.
A lot has changed since 2013. First of all, I’ve been to a lot of weddings in the past five years. I’m definitely no longer in the minority in that regard. And I don’t feel lonely anymore. We’ve been fortunate to continue to make many new friends – which I have thoughts on that I may touch on in a future post.
But as I was watching Sex in the City the other night (I recently started watching it for the first time – gasp!) I’ll admit I felt a pang of regret. Not something I could even quite put my finger on. But I think there’s still part of me that wants that depth of female friendship. Maybe that’s not attainable or not meant to be permanent – or maybe it just means I need to call the girls I love and make some plans!
Anyways, here it is…
From October 2013:
Being a young married gal can be lonely sometimes.
Don’t get me wrong; my husband is everything I could ever ask for in a partner and more. He’s driven, supportive, and he sure ain’t bad to look at. He’s interesting and interested, and he loves me unconditionally. The life that we are building together is everything that I could ever ask for. But I’ve never believed that one person can or should be your everything. Everyone needs a circle of support and camaraderie that they can turn to as well. In the years since I’ve been married, I’ve seen my close female friendships become fewer and farther between. Or perhaps it’s more accurate to say that it is the depth of my friendships that has changed.
I love my gal pals dearly, but I often feel as if I’m floating between two planets, waving from a distance, often stopping to have a nice visit on each, but not wholly inhabiting either. Yes, I’m in a different place in life than my single pals. I can’t really relate when you talk about the latest dating apps, and the potential to meet a new guy doesn’t drive my plans for the evening. (Although really, hasn’t that been the case for the better part of a decade?) I know it’s not intentional, but more and more often I find myself gently pushed outside the circle of trust that my single girlfriends share.
Yet I’m just as far from connecting to the other cohort of my peers: those who share their birthing stories before spin class and exchange tips on the best brand of breast pumps and jogging strollers and which daycare waiting list you really must get on now that your pregnant with your second child. Yes, I’m happily married, but children are not something I have planned for my immediate future. Some people couple up and settle down, and I’m just not quite ready to settle down.
There are assumptions about “old married life” that I just don’t feel apply to me. It hurts to hear “oh, well, you’re married” as the reason why you wouldn’t have liked that club you weren’t invited to last night, or to excuse you for turning down another round at happy hour. If the former is true it’s because I dance like an awkward chicken with a bad case of vertigo, not because of the ring on my finger. And while we’re being completely honest with each other, the latter is usually because I have an early morning date with the gym, not because I have a husband anxiously waiting up for me at home. Just because I’m married doesn’t mean I’m more comfortable on the dinner party circuit than the happy hour scene.
So I often find myself, not quite belonging to either group, and frankly, it can be a lonely place to be. It’s easy to be left out when no one is sure where you belong.
