I am now a married woman. And you know what…apart from the beautiful rings on the fourth finger on my left hand, I don’t feel any different. Yes, I have only been married for a matter of days (I write this post from my sun lounger while my new husband snores on the sun lounger next to me), but the truth is that we have been together for 7 years and in that time we have lived like a married couple. I was desperate to get married. Not in a Bridget Jones need to be in a relationship way, I had found a man that I loved and want to grow old with. I wanted and still want him to be my baby-daddy.
Marriage is a strange beast with old fashioned connotations of a woman needing a man to maintain her and any children produced within said marriage. It is no longer a prerequisite to be married before you are able to live with your partner or to have children with that partner out of wedlock. There are two ways of looking at this. One, that couples (or their parents) no longer have to fork out a great deal of money for a certificate that decrees that said couple is not living in sin. Or, the way I prefer to look at it, the fact that it is no longer required means that it is all the more romantic. My husband did not need to propose to me as we were already living the life of a married couple. Yet, 15 months ago he got down on one knee and asked me to be his wife.
Although as aforementioned it is not necessary to get married, we wanted to take that extra step and cement our love in front of all of our family and friends. I don’t think much (if anything) will change when we return to London, but I like that when we have children, we will all have the same surname. And it doesn’t hurt that I have those beautiful rings on the fourth finger of my left hand.