In less than a month I’ll walk down the aisle to a new life. In as much as I would have loved to say I’m racing down that aisle with total abandon and joy, I cannot. In fact, I am anxious and tense.
I did post at some point about my fear of change. It has struck again I guess, only this time it is not about a job but a lifetime commitment and it’s far more serious. Not that I don’t want to be married to my wonderful fiancé. He’s a beautiful man and a wonderful friend, and I am blessed that he is in my life. But the thought of becoming part of a new social dynamic fills me with dread. Every time I try to imagine our future together, I start sweating the small stuff: calling a place I have not chosen or grown up in, my new home; becoming part of a new family; rationing my time with my own family because I now have to factor in the in-laws and visiting them; having children that take on a new family name that is foreign to me; calling a new person on mother’s day; attending a whole host of new family member events and occasions; espousing new social protocols and traditions; even adopting new dishes and cuisines.
I am tempted to run back up the aisle and as far away as I can from the institution of marriage. What keeps me walking? I am not sure. Fear of staying in place, maybe.
