I woke up from yet another bizarre dream, this time involving an old flame or perhaps a confusing mix of past relationships. My friend, who was listening intently, shook her head with a knowing smile. “Oh, sweetie,” she said softly, “those dreams don’t fade away after you get married.”
How naïve I must have seemed to think that marriage would somehow alter the workings of my mind. Back when I was single, I viewed marriage as the ultimate solution: once I’m married, loneliness will vanish, purpose will materialize, and anxiety will dissipate. I imagined I would seamlessly connect with others and forget the heartaches of my past. The truth? Those feelings lingered. While I do feel happier and more secure now, the idea that marriage can eliminate all fears and regrets is simply unrealistic. I still find myself misty-eyed when a familiar song reminds me of lost loves, and my dreams often capture the bittersweet essence of time slipping away.
Just last week, I found myself in a dream passionately kissing someone I couldn’t even place. In those moments, we were both young, perhaps teenagers, and upon waking, I felt a wave of loss wash over me. It struck me that I would never again feel that same rush of exhilarating discovery.
Some people have wild pre-wedding antics—hanging out with strippers or impulsively chopping off their hair. I never had that phase; I had waited eagerly for my wedding day, and the thought of committing to one person for life didn’t intimidate me. Yet sometimes, as I navigate the responsibilities of adulthood, I feel an unsettling fear creeping in. The Beginning is over; I’m now in The Middle, with The End looming ahead.
If marriage feels like sealing the fate of youth and freedom, then having a child is like driving in the final nail. (Metaphorically speaking, of course; I imagine coffins have more sophisticated mechanisms these days.) Nothing underlines your own mortality quite like becoming a parent. As comedian Jerry Seinfeld humorously noted, “I adore my baby, but let’s face it—these little ones are here to take our place. They’re adorable, cuddly, and sweet, but they want us out of the picture.” The thrill of discovery now belongs to my child. In the natural cycle of life, I have willingly passed my youth to him.
There are still joys ahead of me that come with age—improving my home, witnessing my son grow, and cherishing deep-rooted relationships. However, it’s a peculiar feeling to watch myself age while vividly experiencing the joy of new love in dreams. It’s as if I embody both my current self and an eternally youthful emotional self. The thought of this ageless essence trapped in a decaying body—wondering what happened and yearning to be free—terrifies me. This is the part of me that resists making way for the next generation.
It was this very self that cringed when a talented student corrected my spelling. In a rush, I had written “r-h-i-n-o-c-e-r-o-u-s” on the board, and I chastised myself for such a blunder; I knew better! I may struggle with social situations, anxiety, and irritability, but I can spell. I even participated in the National Spelling Bee! In my mind, I was The Spelling Queen, reigning over a kingdom of dictionaries. And just like that, a bright young student—barely twelve and on his own journey to the National Bee—swooped in and knocked me from my throne.
Just like that, the student became the teacher.
I fell awkwardly, with a mix of protests and despair, which feels oddly similar to how I’m navigating aging itself. But the wonderful aspect of being married is having a partner to share these moments with, to face fears together. “I misspelled ‘rhinoceros’ and I’ll never experience new love again, my knees creak when I climb stairs, and I can’t remember anything!” I lament, and he simply takes my hand. He understands.
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Summary:
Marriage doesn’t erase the complexities of dreams or emotions. While it brings security and happiness, the realities of aging and the bittersweet memories of youth remain. Embracing these feelings with a supportive partner can make all the difference.