wife

Since the day after our wedding, the inside of my head has been playing host to a whole bunch of voices clamoring for attention and arguing their sophist truths at one another. In other words, I'm trying to come to terms with this new label I have: Wife.

What does it mean to be a wife? Well, that depends on the day and the internal voice that happens to have temporarily drowned out all its competitors.

"Nothing. You're the exact same person you were before."

"You're a shrew. Listen to yourself. Everything comes out Nag."

"This is hot. It's so cool to be married and yet go out, have fun and be young."

"It means you're getting old. Haven't you noticed the proliferation of gray hairs?"

"Hehehehe... you said 'Wife'."

"Did you notice that every other girl looks younger than you now? And hotter?"

So about half the time, I'm giggling to myself and glowing (at least, that's what the crazy lady with bad teeth said to me on the train the other day). And half the time, I'm cautiously tip-toeing around black, swelling pits of ageist stereotypes and anxieties that can only come from a lifetime of subconsciously absorbing the not-so-subtle messages in a thousand Jiffy peanut butter commercials and my mom's old Redbook magazines. Was I born with it? Or was it Maybelleine after all? Just who am I, anyway?

Last night, T & I went to dinner and then met up with Best Man and Woman for drinks at a bar. (Lest anyone forget law school still looms large, I paid for it today when I overslept and came late to Evidence.) It was an all-around good time. One of those times when being Wife meant having fun with the Hubbard, being hip and cool young city dwellers and sticking it to all the stereotypes of married life. At one point, in a moment of jovial drunkeness, T revealed that he'd been representing our position on having children as, "After law school? JE has been ready since last week!" Hahaha. Hilarious. I was not amused. (Side note: Why don't guys ever have to master the fine art of deflecting obnoxious and overly personal questions? Because they don't get them in the sheer volume that women seem to.)

Anyway, this conversation alarmed Best Man, who said, "Don't start having kids! Then we won't get to hang out anymore." To which T deftly replied, "That's what you said 3 years ago about if JE & I got married!" For some reason, I was very proud of his response.

Today, T went out with coworkers after work, and I came home to study. And study. Oh, and walk the dog. Order pizza. And study. Eventually, it was after 8:00 and I had no idea where T was or when he was getting back. And even though I was annoyed, I knew he wasn't up to no good. And more importantly, I wanted to placate the voice in my head that happened to be shouting at the time, "Don't be that wife! Don't be the shrew!" So I kept studying. And eventually, T came home. And although I was annoyed, I tried to bite my tongue. It worked out fine.

I guess I'm just wondering how long I'm going to feel this way, like I'm riding a bike for the first time. It's really not that different than NOT being married. T doesn't get it. He gets either annoyed or amused when I start giving a lot of voice to my wife-related insecurities. Although, the last couple of days, he's been asking if he's being a good husband. And the other day, he revealed what he described to be his first "husband thing": plucking a nosehair in the bathroom before work. So, maybe he does get it more than I realize. In any case, we're both here stumbling around together figuring it out. Just T, me and all the damn voices.