The honeymoon is over, the newness has worn off, and life has settled into a comfortable routine. Google photos just showed me that today a year ago, we were sitting in this very living room working on our guest list. Then, we were excitedly engaged, sitting in “his” living room planning for our wedding. Now, I sit in the same living room that is now “ours,” to write these words about what it’s been like since our wedding. I sent my husband the picture and we both agreed heartily that we are glad to be north of the wedding. We bask in the settled restfulness of covenant love. It really is incredible.

I will share a few realities of our experience. They center on the fact that I married slightly older in life (26) to someone 11 years older than I. There are always two sides to a coin. If I’ve framed it as an advantage, I will briefly also share the flip-side and vice versa. And yes, my husband has read and nodded to me posting all things written herein. 

• Sometimes, it seems my husband has lived a whole lifetime without me. When I was graduating 8th grade, he was moving several hours from home to start life in a new community at the ripe age of 25. Sometimes I feel a sense of loss. It feels like I somehow missed out on some of his best years. I missed out on knowing him as a younger, more energetic person. He has already lived his dreams, seen the world, done all the crazy, adventurous things of youth. And now I come along, quite a bit younger, and want to go on those adventures, do those crazy things, but he is somewhat less enthusiastic because for him it’s more like “been there, done that.” This causes me to feel a tinge of sadness sometimes. 

The upside, however, is that because he’s had his fun, he is more willing to let me say what I’d like to do. He told me once when we were dating, “I’ve already had my fun. Now I just want to make your dreams come true.” Sounds pretty good, doesn’t it?

 

• He has a lot of life experience. Sometimes I am in awe of how downright handy he is. Then I remember that he has been working and building things with his hands since he was an early teenager. He’s had over 20 years of construction experience. No wonder he can hang my hammocks, build me a bench/box cubicle for storage, make me a flowerbed, and string my twinkle lights perfectly for my front porch. Maybe some of these sound pretty simple, but growing up in a home without a dad to do these sorts of things, makes having a handy husband feel luxurious.

He owns a house. He has owned a business. He is perfectly comfortable renting vehicles in foreign countries, booking airline tickets around the world, making hotel reservations, and calling the water company to figure out why in the world it was triple the usual last month. He understands credit cards, and ROTH IRAs. In a lot of ways, he is very “worldly-wise,” in a good way. He has been around the block—and it is just kind of convenient. 

The downside to this is that sometimes it makes me feel rather silly, or that we simply don’t get to learn some life lessons together. Maybe I wish we could, because I don’t always think his way is best, but because he’s already been doing it that way so long, it’s harder to get him to see another point of view. 

• My husband lived for many years as a bachelor. This, combined with the fact that he is naturally a pretty tidy person, makes him easy to live with. My sister’s husband coined the term “functional compatibility” when discussing how compatible they were in day-to-day living together aspects. My husband and I’s functional compatibility is very high. I think partly because he has a huge servant heart, but also because he understands what it takes to keep a house running neatly. He always hangs up his clothes, he always rinses out the sink after shaving, and wipes all the water splatters up. He always lifts the lid and leaves the toilet spotless. He has taught me to always fix the bed, by example. He always puts his clothes in the hamper and hangs his towel neatly in a double fold. He offers to do his own laundry, if necessary, and always packs for himself for trips. He frequently offers to set or clear the table and helps me clean up the kitchen. There really is no downside to all this (wink, wink). 

• He is very happy, in fact, he really wants me to be an independent person. He expects me to let him also do his own thing with his buddies sometimes. He encourages me to go see my girlfriends and family (out of state) and happily finances it. One month, less than six months after marriage, we spent eleven nights apart (not consecutively). He assured me I did not need to make any food ahead of time for him, and that he could take care of himself just fine. And he really does. Of course, he assures me he misses me, but also gently reminds me that “you forget I spent many years taking care of myself before you came.” 😊 True. I think it might be more difficult for someone who went straight from mom taking care of him to marriage to let his wife freely go off on her own excursions. He likes to go do things with his buddies, and because he values this, he is also quite willing to give me the same freedom. I was 26 when I got married, so I too was used to making my own decisions and running my own life, and so I appreciate this freedom. 

The downside to this, is that sometimes I think it is harder to blend our two worlds. Because we each had our own life for quite a while and did not know each other until right before we started dating, having friends that our “ours” and not “yours” or “mine” can be more difficult. Of course, time will probably largely change this. 

It is also possible to become too independent. I think a healthy marriage should include a certain level of interdependence—in blending two lives and hearts, it is good to be able to depend on each other for certain things and miss what the other gives when they are gone. Obviously, there needs to be mutual giving and taking for it to be healthy. It is not good if we are too proud and self-sufficient to allow ourselves to depend on our partner. In fact, it deprives us of the fulfillment of having something to offer the other. Plus, it can be the result of not allowing ourselves to be vulnerable with our partner, not wanting to appear “needy” by admitting to our partner what we would like from them that helps us. Sometimes my husband will tell me I don’t need to cook supper or give him a back rub or whatever. I will ask him, “Are you saying no because you actually don’t want it, or because you are just trying to be nice? Because if you actually don’t want it, that is fine. But if you’re just saying it to be nice, but actually would like it, then tell me, because I actually would like to do this for you.” Obviously, there is an unhealthy “need to be needed,” that is not what I am advocating here. 

• When we got married, I moved into his house that he had built several years before. We did not have the usual newly-wed stresses of buying or fixing up a house, or even finding a rental house. We didn’t have to start from scratch or go appliance shopping. When my husband carried me across the threshold, it was into a fully-furnished, set up house. All I had to do was unpack our wedding gifts and my things. I tweaked a few things here and there—the neon man cave sign in the kitchen, for example, had to go. As did most of his motley assortment of kitchen supplies. Oh, and the mounted deer heads. I added plants, some décor, and more pillows, throws, and “soft” things. I loved how simple this was. Some girls probably would have disliked this, but to me, it was much less overwhelming. I loved just being able to switch out and add a few things here and there to my liking. But I already had something to work with. 

The downside—sometimes I felt hemmed in by the feeling that it wasn’t my house but “his” house. I disliked feeling like I needed his permission to discard an item or make certain changes. However, the longer we were married and the more I got to know my man, the more ownership I felt and the less this bothered me. 

• Let’s talk about the social circle I stepped into. As I mentioned, my husband is 11 years my senior, which makes for some interesting social dynamics. He has nieces and nephews older than me. His friends his age have been married for years and might have 3-5 kids already. They are less about adventures and possibility and hanging out late, and more about religiously getting in that Sunday afternoon nap and worrying about kids and rising gas prices. I love that my husband keeps up with all his married friends. But reality is that he is closer to 40, the age people generally start slowing down a bit. Some of the vitality and energy of youth is passed. And here I am, closer to 25. One time when we were dating I joked that I would rather go hang out with his nieces and nephews, than go to the restaurant and have coffee with the “old people” (his brothers and sisters).

Generally, this all doesn’t bother me too much. But it is harder to find common ground with his friends group sometimes, because it feels like we are at such a different life stage. We have less in common. For my husband, the life-stage difference isn’t as relevant because they have been his friends for years and years. But for a new person to the party, the difference is much starker.

To his credit, my husband is very fun-loving and in many ways still quite young at heart. I tell him that since he is so young at heart and I’m kind of an old soul, we work together because we meet in the middle. 😊 The Lord knows what He is doing, I guess.

• Last but not least, marrying an older man has caused me to face these two realities: I may never have as many children as I always dreamed of, and my children will have a much older dad (especially the last ones) than some. I want my children to have a healthy, energetic dad that can do fun things with them. Recently, I heard one of his married friends, father of five who has a child under one, say, “There’s a reason they say to have your children when you’re young. I’m telling you, I can already feel it’s harder on me to have a newborn with this last one, than the first ones.” And a little nagging fear in my heart pricked me. I wondered to myself, “Oh no! My husband is your age already. And we haven’t even gotten started.” 

Ultimately, I chose him and he chose me. I’m okay with grieving my losses that result from this choice and basking in the blessings. God has blessed my husband and I tremendously. Just today, I rewatched our marriage highlight film; I cried as I watched my husband on our wedding day, and as he read his letter to me. May I never take him for granted. 

–A. Miller