Another tenth day, another month. We are thankful. We've been learning a lot this past year and three months, but I think the most enduring lesson is that of family. We are our own family, and it is really starting to feel that way.
I struggled separating from my family of origin. Having lived with them the two and a half years previous to marriage, leaving felt hard, and like loss. It was loss. I had to give up the primary support of my family of origin in order to make room for my husband to be my main support. I wrestled with this for a time, wanting to go to my parents for help, but forcing myself to instead go to my husband. It got easier with time, but I hadn't realized the extent of the change that had taken effect until my husband left on a trip for four days. I felt bereft, lonely, longing. My parents called and even would have come to visit had I asked, but it wasn't the same. I needed my person, my family. When he returned, I felt more whole and complete. My family was back together.
We have visited my parents and my previous home several recently. We even stayed in my old room. While we enjoyed our time, it wasn't home. I felt the familiar sense of balance and rest that means home not there, only upon returning to my own home with my husband. I love my family, but I have my own family now.
Warm fuzzies are great. I still feel attracted to my husband, sometimes more, sometimes less. More than that, though, I feel a sense of settledness, of commitment. We are family. There is no going back, no turning back. We are in this thing together, and just like I love my family, I will always love him. This is real life marriage.
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