“He’s never going to marry you! Why would he pay for the cow when the milk is free?” This was the response my mother gave me when I finally got the nerves to tell her I was moving out. My father didn’t say much, but his look of disappointment briefly made me question my decision. I knew they wouldn’t approve, but my mother’s words really shocked me because I didn’t view it as me giving “free milk”. On the contrary, I felt living together was a great opportunity for us to get a snapshot of happily ever after and for him to earn my hand in marriage.
Against their will, we moved into our first apartment and immediately began to notice our differences. I brushed my teeth with the water running, which he HATED! He would toss his jeans over the corner of the bedroom door, which made NO sense to me seeing as though the closet and dirty clothes basket were two additional steps away. I liked sleeping with the TV on and he had to sleep in pitch dark. He was a pack rat and I preferred clean lines and a junk free space. We were each brand loyal on household supplies and grocery shopping was a headache! He refused my 2% milk and insisted on having skim milk, so it was clear that our living expenses were going to be through the roof if we didn’t learn how to compromise.
We played “nice” for the first couple of months, then our true selves began to show. He had habits and routines that were annoying and I wasn’t open to doing things his way. Dishes in the sink would make his blood boil, but I could care less. I liked to keep the top of our bedroom dresser clear, he thought it was great spot for buttons, mail and loose change. I was not responsible for trash at my parents’ house, so I felt like trash was his responsibility. He would say “If the trash needs to be taken out, take it out!” My attempts to prepare his plate were received with far less appreciation than I expected and he didn’t understand my lack of interest in becoming a handy woman for common household fixes.
These are only a few things and as you can see, it was definitely an adjustment for both of us! I learned so much about my husband during those 3 years, which I attribute as to why our first years of marriage weren’t as difficult as “they” say it can be. There were things we tried to change about each other which became a struggle at times but through that I learned a lot about submission.
One of the most frequent questions people ask me is about living together before marriage. In my opinion to each its own. I’m not suggesting that living together before marriage is the key to success, but understanding the value of the milk may give some insight on if it’s worth the investment.
What are your thoughts on living together prior to marriage?
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