Why I Heart Being Married

Being married, is in so many ways, a giant security blanket. And I don't mean financially, or anything at all like that. I'm talking about the smaller things. Like this:

I have hyperhidrosis. It doesn't act up all the time, but it is kind of gross, and it does mean that I sometimes have sweaty palms and feet. I have weird ways of controlling it (thick white socks are a must...warm, dry feet = warm, dry hands, underarms, etc.), but occasionally there are social situations where it acts up. Like any time I have to wear pantyhose or trouser type socks. Anytime I wear a skirt, my hands sweat and sweat and sweat, and then swell up from all the sweating. They're also clammy. (You're really learning strange things about me today, huh?)

So what does me having hyperhidrosis have to do with being married? Well, today I got home from work, and I'm wearing trouser type socks, so my hands are nice and sweaty. Normally I would go in the other room and just switch socks, but I'm being particularly lazy while I watch Law & Order and de-stress. I wanted to snack on these Twizzlers I bought (a recent obsession...I could eat them all day, every day), and I went to go open the bag, and my stupid sweaty, swollen hands made it hard. A.P. isn't home from work yet, so I had to dick around with the package for a while. And it made me think.

If A.P. were home, I wouldn't even have to ask, I would hand him the package and he would just open it. I wouldn't have to explain that my hands are clammy and swollen, and I wouldn't have to justify opening and digging in to a big ol' bag of candy. Why? Because I'm married. Not really, but kind of. I would argue that any loving, lasting relationship could provide this same sense of routine and security, but marriage adds an extra layer of warmth (yes, I'm sticking to my security blanket metaphor...deal with it).

I love knowing that A.P. loves me so much that sweaty palms don't bother him (even though he thinks it's totally weird). I love that he accepts that I have a sweet tooth and sometimes candy eating is the norm. I love knowing that what I sometimes can't do (open a bag of candy, open a jar, figure out insurance policies), he's a whiz at. And I love knowing that no matter what I do, all he sees are my awesome qualities. All of those things come from the loving, lasting nature of our relationship. But us being married means that we're not going anywhere, and I get to enjoy this sense of having a PIC (partner in crime, for those not in the know) forever after.