Breaking Up Is Hard To Do

We spend all our lives developing and nurturing relationships. Some are fleeting or tumultuous. Others come in and out. Then there are those that last for years and years, but change over time. Most are not constant. Save for one. The most important one. I'm not talking about finding the one. I'm talking about the one that you can never truly get away from. It's that person who I've been in a relationship with for the past thirty years.... myself.

It's that me, that she, that's been having a hard time this past month. Because this is it. We're done. There's a beautiful shiny rock on a very important finger now, which means it's time for one final breakup - with any luck, the last breakup I'll ever have in this lifetime* - the divorce from my singledom.

***Let me preface this by saying I literally could not be happier to be starting this new adventure with the ridiculously wonderful man who has agreed to stick by me for, you know, eternity. I'm stupid lucky to have found him. BUT, being engaged does not mean that the only emotion you're allowed to feel is giddy giddy joy joy all the time. So, just let me get this lament out and if you'd rather hear the glowing rosy-eyed bride-to-be ravings, I'm sure those will come later. For now you get a scatter-brained panic, because that's how my brain feels.***

Don't get me wrong, I know this all is going to sound terribly melodramatic. I'm not losing a leg, or moving abroad, or switching jobs, or altering my gender, or dying here - nothing so hectic as all that. I'm just getting married. It's just a name on a piece of paper really.... right?

What is in a name?

But that's just it. It's my name. A name that I've built an identity around my entire life. It's silly that a few letters (or in my case, a lot of frickin' letters) can form such a core identity, but they really do. It's that long last name that spun off into countless nicknames, and awkward explanations of how to attempt to pronounce it. It's a name that most of my friends probably still can't say, which settled me into my position as just "Gina K." That last name immediately signals my heritage (it's so German that it literally is wearing lederhosen and chugging a litre of beer) and anchors me to my family.

It's a name that's also coming to an end. Unless my sister decides to keep our name and pass it to her children, there won't be a next generation. It will become just an archaic reference on someone's family tree some day. There won't be anyone walking around proudly carrying it with. (Then, you can sure bet that there really will be no one who can pronounce it!) And the thought of that kind of makes my heart hurt a little bit.

Yeah, yeah, I know what you're thinking: I'm the one opting to make that name change, so if it really bothers me, I don't have to do it. But, I do want to. It's a symbol that we're a new little family. That we're merging those branches together. I'll be proud to don that new last name - and thrilled to get some ambiguity going forward - but that change is a mental hurdle that I'm still working on getting over. I have a long time before I have to properly face said hurdle. Right now I'm getting a running start, so later I don't just barrel straight into it and end up a crumpled, crying mess on the ground.

Who the heck even am I?

It's all a part of the mental shift. There's a new constant, now. It's not just me: it's we.

How do you like THEM apples?? ... I like them fine, thanks.

Never fear: I'll still fight against being pigeon-holed into just specific titles (see rant #9). But, as much as I might argue that I get to be just-the-same-as-I-ever-was-thankyaverymuch, it really is true that marriage does fundamentally change something. Besides literally changing my name, I'm changing my perspective on the future.

As I evolved from a scrappy trailer-park kid, to a painfully nerdy band geek student, to an aggressively-social-butterfly, to an independent career-girl, I was by and large single. And to be honest, I was good at it. Yes, I had loving family and friends who had my back, but on a whole I was solely responsible for the outcome of my life. My decisions and their consequences were all on me. So if I messed up, it was just me who was impacted. If I was poor, it was okay because I only had one mouth to feed. It was all on my shoulders. I decided what took priority, and how to spend my time and money. Just me...

Even though we've been together for almost five years now, I still was always cautious about the potential of reverting to that single status. When we moved in, I  kept my pots and utensils. I made sure I was financially secure enough to go solo again at any point. I didn't get rid of all my furniture. I knew exactly which friends had a couch I could crash on... just in case. I lived life in "just in case" mode.

Because, let's be real, relationships can just end on a dime. I could've come home any day from work to find him gone for no good reason. Because even though you care, a relationship isn't set in stone. It's a loose knit that can unravel fairly quickly.

This is it. Don't get scared now. 

Marriage ups the ante. It ties big old knots into that loose knit. It's more binding. Sure, marriages still do end sometimes, but divorce is messy and expensive. If you want out, it takes a lot more effort. That's why (most) people don't enter into this legal union lightly. And it's not like we are, and it's not like this wasn't building up for awhile - I'm not shocked and suddenly having to come to grips with this identity change. This wasn't something we rushed.** I guess I just didn't realize that my obnoxious last name and single-status meant so much to my wonky brain.

So here's where that leaves me.... a bride-to-be, having a quiet meltdown / identity crisis while trying to keep a good poker face. Mentally preparing to go all in on this big bet, and hoping that this two-of-a-kind is enough to win. This doesn't feel like a gamble. It feels like a sure thing. Besides, my cards are all on the table at this point, and there's no going back now. I have no regrets about how I've played the game up to this moment, and no regrets about how it will all turn out. Because you can't win if you don't play. And the prize is happily-ever-after.

In it to win it...

* Yes, I did bust out all the best breakup songs. Because even if breakups suck, there is nothing more cathartic than openly sobbing in ones car will blaring "I will always love you" or "It must've been love" or some other sap anthem. Anyone who has never had one of those moments has lived their life at half emotional capacity. 
** I managed to keep conversation about marriage pretty practical and non-threatening. No major ultimatums were made. My fiancé never came home to me laying in a pile of wedding magazines and taffeta fabric samples with "Wedding Bell Blues" on repeat and "Say Yes to the Dress" queued up on the TV, wearing a "Why aren't we engaged yet?" t-shirt. No offense to the forward-thinking women who made such displays, it just wasn't my style. 
*** Also, for the record, getting married will not make me get off my feminist soap box. I'm gaining a legal life partner here, not a master. So while my mental title shift to be a little less 'Miss Independent' and a little more 'Mrs. Woman of Her Own Mind' - don't expect too much else to change in terms of my attitude on gender roles and contributions to a household, loves.