Getting Married at 30

I will be 30 years old when I get married. I realize that I'm considered an "older" bride, statistically speaking. According to US census data, most American women get married at around 25 or 26 years old. I'm also one of the "older" blogger Bees, although there have been a few 30-somethings here in the past (Mrs. Cauldron, Mrs. Mink, Mrs. Snapdragon, to name a few).

Recently, you may have read awesome entries from both Miss Bat and Miss Otter on getting married young. But this one is for the "older" brides and the "older" single or not-yet-engaged ladies. Yes, I see you not-yet-engaged ladies who are lurking around Wedding Bee! No shame! I was in your shoes one year ago.

I am one of the last of my friends to get married. When I scroll through the class of '01 on Facebook I see a lot of married people and I see a lot of babies. Some of my classmates and friends are now on their second or third child! And here I am, puttering around with just an engagement ring. No mortgage or car payment to speak of, chillin' on some furniture from Target and Ikea. Do I feel behind the times? No, I don't. The idea of having children still terrifies me. I have no idea where I want to buy a home and invest in a future. Luckily, Mr. Camel feels the same way. Mr. C, who will be 36 on our wedding day, has obviously seen his friends and relatives married off and having children for years now. He often tells me that after 30, he resigned himself to a life alone. He didn't think he would ever get married and certainly not to someone he could be 100% himself around. And then along came me. Now here we are, ready to take that first big step: marriage. Marriage at 30.

Even if I was given the opportunity, there is nothing I would change about my past. I feel that everything, both the good and the bad, has happened for a reason and happened at the right time for me. As much as I would have loved to know a younger Mr. C, to have have shared in those crazy, lazy days of high school and college together, I know that we met and fell in love at exactly the right time in our lives.

I consider myself to be fiercely independent. I experienced my 20's at full throttle. I biked across France alone when I was 20 years old. I traveled across Europe, explored the life of T.E. Lawrence in England, and spent two years teaching English in a tiny Japanese town of 4,000 people. Could I have done all of these things with the love of my life by my side? Absolutely! But for me, my 20's was about reaching out to life's experiences on my own. Meeting people, going places, and finding myself along the way. There were failed relationships. There were a few regrets here and there. But for me it was never about partying or casual dating.

Relationships are about compromise. As a 20-something I was able to live my life and make decisions based on what was best for me and me alone. I realize that sounds incredibly selfish, and it is. But it was also liberating and empowering. It enabled me to move to Japan, attend graduate school, teach English in Italy for a few weeks in a study abroad program, and find a job in a town where I wanted to live and work. Yes, you can do all of those things and more while married, but those plans and decisions can become much more problematic when two people are involved. I never had to plan my life or my decisions around the man in my life. I spent over two years living on my own, doing my own thing, growing comfortable with the silence of my own thoughts. In fact, that was the hardest thing to give up when Mr. C and I decided to move in together. We live in a small two bedroom apartment and every now and again I find myself pining for my tiny Japanese flat (even without central heating and air!) or the place I lived when I first started dating Mr. C. I miss the quiet. I miss that feeling of being utterly alone in your own space.

As a disclaimer, I haven't always felt so comfortable about getting married later in life.  I kept a blog in my early 20's and there are many entries where I sigh and wring my hands about being unable to share so many of life's moments with the person I love. Ten years ago, at the age of 20, I wrote a an entry entitled "To the Person I Haven't Met Yet." Here's how it ended: Youth fades so quickly, and I feel that time is running out. Every day without you seems a waste of energy and beauty. I don't have all day, and there's so much I have to tell you, and so much I want to show you. I have looked and looked, and I still can't find you. So you win. You can come out now.

Oh dear, sweet 20-year-old Miss Camel. You are so intense with all of your emotions swimming just under your papery skin. You will lead a life that the wide-eyed teenager you once were would be intensely proud of. And you do find that guy, and guess what? He wasn't in Rome or Tokyo or Manchester. He was next door. He was next door just waiting for you to finish your journey. He was there waiting to capture your wildly expanding heart. And when you meet him you will have so much to show him. Even now you aren't done sharing stories and there's no end to the places you want to take him. You will have a lot to talk about because your stories only got better. At 20, Miss Camel, you were barely out the door.

At 30, I am ready to take the next step with the man I love by my side. I'm ready to start a new journey, but it's not just me and my old shoes anymore. There will be lots of compromising and it won't always be easy. There will be times when I miss doing things on my own, but at the end of the day, having Mr. C in my life is absolutely worth it. Now we're an unstoppable team.

If you are in your late 20's or 30's and you still haven't met that special someone, don't get yourself down. Or maybe, like me, you are with someone who makes you feel doubtful or uncertain about your future together. You are waiting for the next step, but not sure that it's the right thing to do. Let it go. Enjoy your independence. Enjoy being utterly, completely yourself on your own. You have a whole life to meet someone and a whole marriage of compromising waiting for you. I realize that at this age many women feel their biological clocks ticking away, but watching the clock won't stop time. Get out there and live your life, do the things you enjoy doing, and know that somewhere along the way you will meet the right person. And when you do, think of all the amazing stories you will have to share.


We shall never cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time

Excerpt from "The Wasteland" by T.S. Eliot

How We Met (and Didn't Speak for 12 Weeks)

I first met Mr. C when I was a student teacher in the spring of 2009. At the time I was working on my Master's degree in education. After my first week I noticed that there was a cute youngish social studies teacher down the hall. Unfortunately he didn't speak a word to me for the entire 12 weeks I was there.

Mr. C often tells me of the pains he went through to start a conversation, but he never did in fear of making a fool of himself (so he says). I would have to pass his classroom anytime I went to the bathroom, the copy room, or the work room. Sometimes he'd be standing in the hallway. We'd make brief eye contact but then I'd quickly shift my gaze to the floor. As someone who hated being called on in class, I know that making eye contact is guaranteed way to initiate conversation. This is especially true in bars and during demonstrations when people are looking for "volunteers." As a teacher I do it all the time. I scan the room and eventually some hapless student will make direct eye contact with me. Bingo. So for someone as awkward as myself, I try not to initiate too many small talk-type conversations, and therefore I try not to make eye contact with strangers.

Admittedly I also never said hello because I was never formally introduced to him. I really wanted to have a conversation with him, but the more time that passed without us talking the more awkward and impossible the thought of initiating a conversation became. It was the inertia of non-conversation. It also didn't help that he never ate lunch with the other teachers in the work room, which is how I got to know a lot of the other teachers in our department. Overall, Mr. C seemed very busy and somewhat aloof to my existence. We never spoke a word to each other, so he was forgotten soon after I finished student teaching. That doesn't sound very romantic, but it's the truth!

I love teasing him about those 12 weeks of failed communication, even though they were as much my fault as his. At the time he was living with his sister and brother-in-law and to this day they tell me stories of him pining for the cute student teacher with the European boyfriend who was working at his school. You see, one night he had spotted me at the grocery store with my long-distance boyfriend who happened to be in town at the time. At that point he gave up any hope of having contact with me. 

Dressed as ninjas on twin day for our school's spirit week, 2010. We were still just friends at this point! ( personal photo)

Thankfully we were given a second chance a year and a half later when I was officially hired to teach social studies at the same school. I would finally have my chance to talk to that cute teacher down the hall because we would be teaching the same subject. This time we were forced to interact with each other otherwise the perpetual awkwardness of not speaking probably would have continued for another 12 weeks. We had the same planning period each day to encourage us to collaborate on our lesson plans. During the first few weeks of school we got to know each other very well. We were coming up with really great ideas for our lessons and ended up totally reworking the curriculum that had been used  at our school in the past. The end result was higher test scores for our students, so we knew we made a great team -- professionally at least. 

But something else was happening at the same time. If I was having a bad morning or something at work had me in a bad mood, he would always find a way to cheer me up. I would stalk into the workroom all ready to unload, but instead Mr. C would make me laugh and in a matter of minutes all the frustration I was feeling would be gone. I had him laughing too. One time he laughed so hard he was pretty much drooling on himself.  He was silly, kind, and most importantly my freakishly inappropriate sense of humor did not frighten him away. I also saw that he was a great teacher who really cared about our students, which isn't always easy where we work. I started to enjoy our mornings together more and more as the weeks passed and then one day I suddenly realized that I was forming a big junior high school crush on him. Thankfully (unbeknownst to me at the time) he was forming a big crush on me too.

But there were a few problems. First of all (and most importantly) I was still in that unhappy long-distance relationship. Secondly, we were coworkers, and let's be honest about workplace dating -- it cant get weird. I have very vivid memories of my brother warning me not to date someone from work. Finally, I had no idea how he felt about me, and no one likes being met with rejection. For a long time I pushed all those feelings back and tried to stay focused on work. But that was so much easier said than done! 

To be continued . . .

Do you meet your significant other at work? Do you think it is okay for coworkers to date each other? 

On Just Knowing

When Mr. C and I first met in 2009, I was in a long-term, long-distance relationship with a Northern Irish guy I met while working in Japan. The relationship dragged on for years after leaving Japan, with me flying out to see him in Switzerland (where he was working) and him flying out to see me in the U.S. several times a year. It was complicated and I think neither of us were ever really happy. Being together was so incredibly hard. I know that sometimes it can be a challenge to make a relationship work, but this seemed like too much work -- a constant uphill battle with too few good times in between. We were all wrong for each other, totally incompatible, but for the longest time neither of us had the courage to let go.Then I met my fiance and it was as if someone had lit a fire beneath me for the first time. I realized that I wasn't happy in my relationship, that I hadn't been happy in a long time. That realization gave me the courage to end the relationship. Even when you know you are doing the right thing, it can still be hard to let go of someone who has been in your life for four years.

After more than four years back in the U.S., I returned to Japan with Mr. C this past summer. (personal photo)

When I think back to this period in my life I am often reminded of a scene from the movie 500 Days of Summer. Summer breaks up with Tom, the protagonist of the film, and a year or so after the breakup she meets another man who she falls in love with and marries. Tom later runs into Summer in a park and he receives some closure in a revealing conversation with her. He can't seem to understand why the woman he loved, who at the time seemed unable to commit to him and label their relationship, was able to meet another man and marry him. She tells him that it happened unexpectedly; she woke up one day and she knew -- she knew something she was never sure of when she was with Tom. It isn't stated implicitly, but you know that Summer knew that she had met the man she was going to marry.

This is exactly how I felt in my previous relationship. You would think that after four years I would have known if I wanted to marry my long-distance boyfriend. But I wasn't sure, and that uncertainty told me everything I needed to know.

With Mr. C I just knew, implicitly, that he was the man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. In my previous relationships there was always a pit of doubt, an uncertainty. In some cases I dated guys who literally gave me wedding nightmares. I was terrified of the idea of spending my life with them. Not because they were bad people, but because we just weren't right together. But Mr. C was different. I had a calm, knowing certainty very early in our relationship. I remember calling my dad one night right after Mr. C and I started dating and saying, "Dad, this is it. He's the one." My dad was quiet for a few moments. Finally he said, "I had a feeling this was different. I could hear it in your voice."

It was not love at first sight with my fiance. We were acquaintances at first, then coworkers, then friends, and then lovers. But very soon after dating him and knowing that I loved him, I woke up one morning, just like Summer, and I knew. 

I think it's a beautiful scene and I'm sure anyone who has survived a failed relationship can identify with both characters. If you haven't seen the movie before, I highly recommend it. 

How did it feel when you knew your significant other was the one you wanted to spend the rest of your life with? Was it a sudden moment of certainty or did it take time to come to that realization?