My Boring Life

I got married at 23. Bought a house. Had my first kid at 26. Currently a stay at home mum.

And there’s this thing out there that says I’ve got the boring life. That I’m missing out on the excitement of being young. Of the bright lights and long nights and career achievements and travelling the world.

There are definitely things I’ve missed out on. But that’s true of everyone. Every choice we make limits us in some way, cuts off another path we could have taken. Choosing bright lights and long nights means missing out on something different to that.

I won’t pretend my life is perfect, I’ve got depression and there have been some pretty shitty moments along the way.

But let me tell you a little about my quiet boring life.

I am married to a man who is everything I most deeply wanted as an unhappy teenager searching for what real love was.

The type of love that knows you fully, all of you, and still thinks you’re incredible.
The type of love that lights up your soul because it is fun, and deep, and sexy all at the same time.

I have found journals I wrote as a 17 year old, lamenting that this sort of love might in fact not exist.

But I have it.
My boring life.

I jumped out of a plane when I was 25, despite my intense fear of heights and death, because this man gave me confidence that I could do it, that I could be that person, if I wanted to be. He had bungee jumped the day before.

You jump, I jump Jack.
My boring life.

Don’t get me wrong, my life isn’t all about him, but he has helped me find the confidence to be who I want to be, to try things. I have a best friend, for life.

Our house might not be huge, but why is it we think we need more? This house is full of memories, we took an old dilapidated shell and made it a home. Paint and sweat. Handpicked benches. Love. Time.

My boring life.

I was scared that having a child might create a replica of me; a little one with spiralling thoughts and uncertainties, inabilities to cope. But my man pointed out the positive traits that I could pass on to a child. Our child is cheeky and curious and determined and delightful. I didn’t sleep for most of her first year, and it was horrendous. But now I have a little shadow toddling around after me, showing me the world in a different light. A simpler light. There are screams of laughter and lying on the floor crying and celebrating the little achievements.

My boring life.

Maybe I missed out. Maybe there are things I could be doing right now that would make me happy in different ways. Of course there are.

But you know what?

This life has given me some of my most precious moments. I have a deep sense of home, and family, and love.

My boring life.

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Anniversary

Marriage is
You eating my cake off the floor
Because I dropped it
And cried
And you saying it still tasted nice

Marriage is
Going out on a date
Without the baby
For the first time
Holding hands because we finally can
And feeling like a teenager again

Marriage is
You taking the baby
When you’re tired
Because I’ve had enough
And you want me to be happy
So many times

Marriage is
Learning to accept
That we cook the spaghetti bolognaise
Differently
But that doesn’t make your way
Wrong

Marriage is
Knowing that clean shaven and fresh faced
21 year old boy
And this scruffily bearded
30 year old man
And loving them both
So so much

Marriage is
Years
Of
Memories
Holidays
Jokes
Dinners
Days out
Days in

Doing the same thing
Many times
But
Seeing your face
And feeling so happy
Because
It’s
Home