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Not growing up and the freedom of marriage

One thing that really shocks you about getting older is how much you don’t change. The insecurity, the juvenility, the crapness with money, the inability to speak to attractive women. When does it all bloody stop? Seems that life over thirty is like being Tom Hanks in Big. Or so it seems.

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Like the way grown ups seem like giants when you’re five, but you don’t notice them getting smaller – it happens too gradually, you never notice how much you’re changing. If you met yourself 10 years ago, you’d struggle to have a drink with them. Or maybe that’s just me. You do grow up a little bit, it’s just a little hard to notice.

A big difference between married men and those yet to settle down with the ball and chain is possibility. I’m not sure this is just a bloke thing, but since I’ve never been female (despite leg shaving and the worrying bag incident below) I can’t really comment on that. Anyway, men like having their options open.

They may be perfectly happy with the partner they have, but that doesn’t stop them imagining life with someone else. Some of that is accepting there will  never be thrill of the chase, the first date, the first sleep over etc, but much is simply that once you settle down, you lose the possibility of meeting someone else. Like the way you browse the job section, or can’t resist accepting calls from headhunters, the possibility can be exciting, even if you’ll never do anything about it.

It’s only when you get married/settle down that you realise that allowing yourself to be happy with the love of your life is MORE liberating. You have to work at it, don’t get me wrong, but not worrying about this stuff anymore lets you worry about lots of things that matter more. More bandwidth if you like.

So there you go, I argue that being married is maybe more liberating than not being, it just frees you up for stuff that’s more important. Of course this doesn’t mean you won’t be an immature buffoon with your mates, but it might mean you get to talk about more than exaggerating your feats with the opposite sex.

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5 responses to “Not growing up and the freedom of marriage”

  1. lauren Avatar
    lauren

    i promise to love you, honour you and give you more bandwidth by not having to worry about whether the hot chick at the bar is gonna reject you.
    i like it 🙂

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  2. paul Avatar
    paul

    I decided I was happy with the love of my life at an early age. I too missed ‘the possibility’ & then saw it take a different meaning when I became a dad.
    The stuff I worry about has now changed dramatically, the pace of change in my life has hit fast forward (through watching a child grow) and I’m STILL wondering when I’ll grow up.
    The only thing I’d add to your thought is the possibility that when it comes to the important people in your life, you’ll find your bandwidth is unlimited.

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  3. Stewart Avatar
    Stewart

    The problem came for me I got married but was not ready to settle down. For whatever reason. It’s then about thinking the grass is always greener rather than looking at just how green your grass is.
    This was my sad, sorry, selfish tale that I’ve regretted and learned from. End up ruining a whole pile of stuff
    Deliriously happy now a few years later. Just went the round the hard way.

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  4. Mrs Northern Avatar
    Mrs Northern

    If you love me so much will you paint the bloody walls.

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  5. Rob @ Cynic Avatar
    Rob @ Cynic

    It’s weird because I’ve just written a post about forgetting what it’s like to be young and wanting that feeling back – or at least the feeling of being able to act without fear.
    Saying that, your comment on marriage is absolutely bang on. I know I’m relatively new to the whole matrimonial thing, but it has been liberating but I don’t mind telling you the hardest part was letting go of wanting to do everything and accept there was someone there who wanted to help – do things even.
    The problem with marriage isn’t marriage, it’s retraining yourself you can let go and things won’t fall apart because there’s someone there who actually wants to share the burden and the experiences – it’s magic though I note like you, I’m the one expected to paint the walls.
    Great post NP – just about covers the fact you take more clothes to bloody Geneva than a girl. Pah!

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