Tyler Cured Me of My Only Child Syndrome (Basically)
One of the greatest things about being an only child is having your own room. You always have privacy. All your toys are yours. Sharing is an occasional imposition, but if you like the friend/cousin who wants to play with your Barbies, you know it's only a matter of hours before they are all yours again. I was nice to my visiting friends and let them play with my Barbies without pouting. But I always felt a huge amount of relief when the slumber party was over and everything was MINE again.
As I got older and stopped playing with toys, I was only sharing my time. That I could handle. But when college rolled around, I was told as a freshman that I would have to have a roommate or pay an extra buttload of money. I figured I could handle nine months of sharing a room.
I got out alive, but it was not something I ever wanted to do again. After that, I shared living suites and an apartment, but I always had my own bedroom. It kept me sane. I didn't live on my own until I was 24. After college, I returned home to live with my parents while my mother was sick. I couldn't find a job for the longest time, but when I did several months later, my dream of living alone was finally turning to reality.
I loved living alone. I loved that everything in my apartment was mine. No one else's. Mine. I loved that I got to pick out my pillowcases and shower curtain and where to put all the furniture. MINE! MINE! MINE! With each passing day, I believed I would never be able to live with someone ever again. And I was fine with that. These only child tendencies made it easier for me to accept that I would never be in a serious relationship, or if I ever was (HAHAHA) I probably wouldn't live with the guy, because there is no one I could imagine wanting to spend that much time with.
I bet you know where this is going...
Once Tyler and I became involved, we did not go a day without seeing each other. It just didn't feel right. In the beginning, we didn't spend every night together though. Tyler had to get used to sleeping next to someone and then, depending on our work schedules, I would stay with him until he was asleep and then I would go home. Eventually it became the norm for us to spend every night together, unless one of us had to get up extra early. In time that didn't even matter any more. I don't even remember the last time I went to sleep without Tyler being under the same roof as I. (Sometimes he plays video games in the next room when I have to get up early the next day.)
All right, fine. That's just sleep. A lot of people can't sleep alone. It's perfectly plausible for me to hang out at my apartment until bed time. But I don't want to. I want to be wherever Tyler is whenever I can be. (So basically, all the time except when we're at work or in the bathroom.)
I never thought I would feel this way about anybody. In my wildest dreams where I had a serious boyfriend, I imagined us renting both sides of a duplex so we could have our own kitchen, bathroom, etc. We could be together when we wanted and apart when we wanted. What I have with Tyler is so much better than that. I still think my duplex idea would be the best way for some couples to function, but not me anymore.
So Tyler and I are getting married which means nothing will be mine anymore. It will be ours. Even my box of tampons will be ours, legally. When I choose future pillowcases and shower curtains and where to put the furniture, I will need to at least ask for Tyler's input. This is something I have been processing since the word "marriage" was first uttered. And because Tyler is so wonderful, it wasn't that hard of a process.
Will I need an hour of alone time every now and then? Of course. Will I want to decorate one of the bathrooms to my taste? Probably. Will Tyler have issue with either of these? No. Which is why I know I'm marrying the right man.
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