I once read that people who triumph over devastating events in their lives primarily do so because they are passionate about one of the following three things: God, a talent or career, or another person.
I was a teenager when I read this. At the time, I thought if I were to survive a horrific event, whether it was as uncommon as a war near my home or as likely as the death of a loved one, I would prevail because of my passion for writing.
I also believed writing would sustain me, not only during dark times, but through the daily grind as well. My career as a writer would be the focal point around which all other elements revolved.
With that in mind, and if you keep up on marriage statistics, you may wonder why I bothered to tie the knot two months ago. If you aren’t one to keep current on marriage stats, here they are: According to the National Center for Health Statistics, the probability of a first marriage ending in divorce within the first five years is 20 percent; within the first 10 years, it’s 33 percent.
In light of this data, it’s remarkable anyone would choose to get married, let alone someone who always thought her career would come first. Why not just live together, as we had been for three years? Why bother with the legalities?
Matt and I got married for three reasons.
I wanted to join a health club.
The financial benefits of marriage are irrefutable. Although Matt and I had been dating for six years, we had to make it official to receive any of the benefits provided to married couples.
The day after we wed, I was able to join my husband’s health insurance plan. We now are entitled to each other’s Social Security benefits. If I die, Matt will receive my possessions without having to pay estate taxes, and vice versa. In addition, the standard tax deduction for a married couple is twice that of a single individual. I also now receive a discount pass to the city of Boulder recreation centers because Matt is a city employee.
The financial benefits of marriage certainly played a role in helping us decide to take the plunge. It made sense, if we were committed, to go ahead with the ceremony.
Of course, being a heterosexual couple, we were permitted to marry and accept the forthcoming benefits. Had we been a homosexual couple, marriage, and all its state-sanctioned rewards, would have been unjustly out of reach.
I wanted to throw a big party.
Everyone close to us knew we were committed to each other. My family didn’t question whether Matt would be coming over for the holidays. And his friends assumed I’d be tagging along on ski trips.
But knowing it wasn’t quite the same as proclaiming it. We wanted to announce our commitment in front of everyone who had supported us both individually and as a couple. OK – and I wanted to pick out a pretty wedding dress, too.
I realized the most important thing in my life wasn’t what I always thought it would be.
Sure, the health club membership is nice. The wedding was amazing. But I really got married because I found the one thing that will help ensure my survival no matter what the future holds.
Fortunately, I haven’t had to endure a truly horrible event in my life.
But if it comes time for me to produce the will to get up every day despite seemingly insurmountable difficulties, it won’t be my passion for writing that gives me that final nudge out of bed. And it certainly isn’t writing that sustains me day-to-day, either.
The thread of hope that will pull me through anything and everything is Matt. And, lucky for me, I’m his thread, too.
Amanda Cherry (amc12180@hotmail.com) lives in Boulder.
