Today is my and Mr. Rafia’s halfiversary – or heiferversary, as I’m calling it.
I know it’s practically nothing compared to couples who have been married for decades – and believe me, I can’t wait to be one of those cute old couples that take walks every day, holding hands, clearly still so in love – but in order to get to 60 years, we first have to reach 6 months (great logic, I know). We’ve reached that point as of today. Only 59 1/2 more years to go!
We’re not really celebrating because a) who the heck celebrates 6 months? b) it’s Ramadan and I wouldn’t even be able to eat cake (the only thing I care about really) until after 9 PM anyway. And I’m generally of the opinion that anniversaries (or heiferversaries) should be for the couple and the couple alone. But you know what? It’s my first 6 months of being married and this is my blog. So if I want to celebrate by writing this post, I’m going to do just that!
Besides, it’ll take my mind off of the cake I’m not eating.
When I reflect on what these past 6 months mean, I have to say: I’m grateful for even getting to this point. It wasn’t an easy road getting here, as I’ve alluded to before. And I guess that’s why I’m making such a big deal about something others might think is juvenile or frivolous. It still seems a little unreal to me. Not just the fact that I am married, but that I’m married to the man I fell in love with.
Mr. Rafia is the first man I’ve been in a relationship with. All of my couple-y firsts have been with him. Thinking back to our first kiss 6 months ago after our nikkah, our honeymoon to San Francisco, moving into our first apartment together in January, having my first real date night on my 29th birthday in February, my first Ramadan as a married woman, and everything in between… all those moments are special to me. I don’t want to ever take any of it for granted.
A year and a half ago, I could not have guessed I would be here where I am. Not gonna lie, marriage isn’t always sunshine and rainbows. You can’t just run to your room and close the door when you want to be alone, because that room isn’t just yours anymore. You’ll find yourself giving up that last slice of pizza when in the past you’d make a grab at it well before others even had a chance to eye it (notice that I did not mention dessert – I am human). Marriage takes patience, effort, and making peace with the fact that your spouse will irritate you at times. I’ve learned to be less rigid. I wasn’t fully prepared for all that I’ve experienced, but at the end of the day, Mr. Rafia loves and believes in me even when I don’t always love and believe in myself. Although I don’t believe in luck because I believe everything happens for a Divine-ordained reason, I sure do feel like a lucky gal.
I could, you know, tell him all this instead of blogging about it, but Mr. Rafia doesn’t need any more strokes to his ego. He’s had enough during our courtship and first few months of marriage. We’ve been married 6 months, I’m past that stage ;)