At the end of this month, I will be partaking in the most expensive and elaborate event to ever have my name attached to it. I mean this will even be bigger than my 3rd grade Lion King birthday party. It’s my wedding time.
A couple of weekends ago I had my bachelor party, and like most bachelor parties, what you would expect happened—we broke out into a random discussion over what marriage means and why it exists. It was so wild!
It started with the guys saying, “We love you, dude, but how the heck did you get Brittany?” I took it as a compliment. From there, some guys talked about how they aren’t ready for marriage yet. Some said they aren’t sure they want to get married. Some even said they would never get married. Just the kind of brotherly motivation you want to have before your big day.
If I can be honest, I’m scared of marriage. More scared than the time I watched Scream 2 by myself during free HBO weekend when I was 13. I’m not terrified of Brittany (usually), but I’m more so scared of what it means to be married. And what it requires of me.
I’m not scared by the divorce statistics. It’s not even the “one woman for the rest of your life” fear that a lot of guys have. It’s not that I think I could do better (yeah right, have you seen our pictures?) or that I’m worried of losing my independence. What terrifies me about marriage is that it will change me, and that change will hurt.
When I talked to the guys, I said that I wasn’t marrying Brittany because she makes me happy, and she does make me happy. I’m not even marrying Brittany because I love her, and I do love her very much. I’m marrying Brittany because she makes me a better person. Living life with someone else gives you less and less room for selfishness. It takes your individual will for your life and says you have to now share it. It’s not just whatever I want anymore.
And that’s what hurts. But that’s a pain that is worth the edification it brings.
Brittany makes me a better man. It’s not just because she makes me less selfish, it’s also because she builds my faith. She believes in me more than I even believe in myself. She not only likes my dreams and aspirations, she’s the one kicking me in the butt to do them. (She even proofreads my blogs.) I need someone in my life that will kick me until I move forward. I need someone who will rightfully disagree with me even when I don’t like it. It hurts, but it’s what I need. That’s my definition of discipline.
If I look down the road at a life without her, I don’t really think I like who I am. That’s not to say all of my character and development depends on one person or that before her I was hopeless; that’s too much pressure for anyone to have to bear. I am saying that she makes me like myself more. She gives me hope that someone has hope in me.
(Yes, Christians, I know God believes in me, too. That’s why I believe marriage is supposed to point us to God.)
So am I scared to be Mr. Husband? You bet. But do I think it’s worth it? You double bet.