Why am I getting married young?

Maybe you've thought it yourself, I know a lot of people have, and have made it quite clear how they feel about it:

Lady in Seat 9C: Who's picking you up at the airport? 

Me: My Fiancé 

Lady in Seat 9C: Oh... aren't you a little young to get married? 

I wish I would have answered her, but before I could utter my reply she had turned to face her daughter and my chance was over. But I still have something to say: 

Yes, I'm getting married young, but I promise I won't regret it.

And Yes, I know it makes some people uncomfortable and many people have expressed their fears. I wanted to write this blog to tell you why I'm doing something so crazy, something so counter-cultural. I wanted to tell you why I'm getting married young.

First off, I know he's the one I want to spend forever with. Your first thought may be: But how? Don't you want to date around first? It's the little things that make me realize that he's the one I want to spend forever with. The fact that in a room full of people he'll find me, make eye contact, shoot that wink that makes me weak in the knees and flash that smirk that gets me every time. Or maybe its the fact that the other day rather than tell me how ridiculous I was being, he just held me while I cried... about ham (Yes, ham okay? Wasn't one of my finer moments...). Maybe its the way that he will listen to literally anything I have to say, or the way he will sing at the top of his lungs anytime a good song comes on the radio. It could be that no one makes me smile like he does, and that no one can make me laugh even when I'd much rather sob. It could also be because I've seen him grow so much in the past year, and I appreciate how his faith guides his life. Maybe its the way that he always challenges me to reach my fullest potential, never letting me settle for mediocre when he knows I have more to give. Oh, it could also be the fact that he is already a pro at dad jokes. Maybe its the way that he listens to all of my nerdy psych rants and can teach other people about why its dangerous to mess with dreams and how I DON'T psychoanalyze people (nor will I ever). I could go on about how he dresses like a champ (when he needs to) and can switch from Southern hick to well-educated (almost) engineer in a second. It could be the way that he loves those that I love the most, and how he goes out of his way to care about so many people. It could be the way that he is literally every single thing that I could have imagined I'd want in a guy, combined into one incredible man that I am blessed enough to call my best friend. I guess it could be a million reasons. I think we just work well together... including the fact that we are both so ridiculous when it comes to taking pictures. 

(P.s. to everyone who said we were adorable, here are the behind the scenes shots)
(P.s.s. I hope our wedding photographer doesn't see this and charge extra in anticipation of our shenanigans)

Most of all, I've prayed about this more than you can imagine, and I still believe he's the right guy for me. Since the first day he told me he liked me we have sought wise counsel and prayer from those around us. I can't say that I haven't had doubts at times (this is forever guys) but I have always come back to the strong feeling that he is the one. Most people probably don't know that I actually made Brian wait 2 weeks after I confessed that I really liked him (even junior-year-finals-week-for-engineers-him), until I would date him so that I could pray about it and seek wise counsel. And I made him wait to ask me in person, because he might be big and tough but the boy was so nervous, 100% worth it. He gave me my space, honestly I think he was just so relieved to know I actually liked him back, and showed up 2 weeks later at a random hotel in Richmond, VA with my FAVORITE flowers and asked me to be his girlfriend. It was pretty perfect :)


Another thought you may have is But you are wasting your years of freedom! Don't you want to live life a little before you settle down? Well, to be honest, I don't know that this "living life" thing you are talking about it, currently my lungs are operating at full capacity and my resting heart rate is normal, so I think I'm living. Here's what I do know, whatever this living life thing is, I want to do it with Brian by my side. Whether its running through Kroger, perusing Walmart, or finding the most odd things at Goodwill, I know that it would be much better with my partner in crime. I've jumped off of cliffs with this guy, flown over lakes, and driven half the length of the country with this guy (Did you know that? He drove 9 hours on roads he had literally never seen to get this sobbing mess home for Christmas with her family!) All I know is that everything (from ERs to chores) are much more fun with this guy around. So YES I want to live life, but I really think that any life I choose will be ten times better with this guy. I know that the longest days of grad school will end with this guy kissing me goodnight and the most exciting days of my life with be even better when he's the one lifting me up in a celebratory hug. I want to sit on the couch eating pizza (obviously homemade because we are a dynamic duo in the kitchen) and talking about the most random nerdy topics like centripetal acceleration and neurological deterioration, all while watching college basketball, and reading a book.

I guess I don't know how else to say it, but I'm getting married young because I found a guy that I couldn't imagine doing life without, and that I know will make whatever life we do together even better. 

Ps. Can I just brag on this guy for helping me study... all... the... time...

How a Hug Changed my Life

I'm socially awkward. If that comes as a surprise to you, we've probably never met in person, in which case how did you find this?... Anyway, that's not my point.
I am socially awkward, but I used to be worse. Why?

Because I hated hugs.

Some people hate asparagus (one of the best vegetables), some people hate flying (hello, my head is in the clouds anyway), and some people hate hugs (and can you blame them?). I grew up in a culture where hugging isn't really emphasized. There were the mandatory hugs at the end of the family function, but if we are being honest those were uncomfortable for both parties.

I shudder just thinking about how much I hated hugs. Someone holding me that close. Our clothes touching. Their germs invading my bubble of personal space. And what do you even do with your arms? And what if I barely knew them? Why did I have to share such a personal moment with a stranger? I literally just met you (or met you 5 years ago but its the same when hugs are concerned), aren't there some boundaries. I always thought hugs were almost equal with kissing as far as PDA. Like ew, don't hug. Ever.

For as long as I can remember I hated hugs. 

I was that camp counselor that cringed when a child threw their filthy little claws around me (I'm being overdramatic on purpose here people, I LOVE KIDS... probably because I am one). I was the kid that dreaded the last day of anything, because last days usually necessitate hugs, and hugs are just TERRIBLE. Do you understand yet how much I hated hugs?

That all changed when I got to college though. Apparently anybody from anywhere other than New England finds it socially acceptable to HUG near strangers. Do you realize how weird that sounds? Guys you are touching someone you don't know. THAT SOUNDS ILLEGAL, THAT SHOULD NOT BE CONSIDERED NICE, IT SHOULD BE CALLED WEIRD. Sorry, freshman year Taylor was just very antsy about the whole constant hugging thing.

I started going to a new church where I made a lot of friends. I don't know if it was in the church mission, but "HUGGING EVERYONE WHETHER OR NOT THEY LIKED IT" seemed to be a requirement for membership. So every week, without fail I was showered in hugs.

I vividly remember releasing someone from a "hug" and hearing for the first time (of many times), "Okay, now give me a real hug." I furrowed my brows and twisted my mouth, "What does that mean?" Apparently I had ben hugging wrong my entire life. Apparently you are not supposed to keep your arms stiff. Apparently your arms are not supposed to awkwardly be in the way. Apparently you can't fake a hug. Apparently I had a lot to learn?

But was a hug the only thing I was really faking? How many people knew me as more than the "stiff" personality, awkward encounters and guarded conversations? How many people had a let "hug" me emotionally?

It wasn't the hug that was the issue, it was my constant refusal to let people in. While I thought I hated hugs, I really just hated people wanting to be close to me, emotionally and physically. It seemed like a better idea to be guarded, to keep your enthusiasm under wraps 90% of the time, and to never let someone get too close. EVER. Period. Weird how my emotions were manifested in my actions (that's psychology folks).

Suffice it to say: hugging lessons followed. And the stinky part was that they would not just hug me, but hold on to me and ask me how I was doing. Ugh, as if the touching briefly wasn't bad enough, now it was sustained, and I actually had to interact with them. A typical encounter went something like this:

*Person hugs*
Them: So Taylor how are you doing?
*Never fully lets go of my arms*
Inside voice: AAAHHHHHHH YOU ARE TOUCHING ME OH MY GOODNESS RETREAT RETREAT RETREAT
Outside voice: *shaking* Good, you?
Them: (Launches into a 15-minute expository essay about their personal state of affairs while still maintaining physical contact).

Slowly though the hugs began to chip away at my hardened heart. I began to actually enjoy the embrace. I began to understand that it showed compassion, a tender-hearted concern, and a genuine interest. I came to trust the huggers, who are apparently real people, after spending nearly two-decades running from them.

And now, looking back I know that hugs changed my life. Do you know why?

A hug is a litmus test for how you are really doing. On the best of days a hug turns into excited jumping, and on the worst of days a hug can turn into sorrowful weeping. I never knew what it meant to cry on someone's shoulder, because to be honest I didn't want to be anywhere near their shoulder.  There is honor in crying as someone holds your rocking shoulders. There is joy in suffering beside someone. And there is beauty in being real.

 Because in order to give someone a "real" hug you have to be there in the moment. You can't be doing something else. You hands can't be full and your mind has to be just as empty. You can't be tense, because the other person can tell. You can't be too wimpy, because they notice that too. But when I learned to let people embrace me and pull me in I began to enjoy it. Because when you hug, all you have to worry about is being real, and being there. ALL there.

Maybe all of this sounds silly to you. But if I'm being honest I really do think that learning how to hug changed my life. It forced me to deal with my own selfishness and pride. It made me realize that I didn't want to be open because that's a dangerous place. What if they don't like the real me? I didn't mind if people don't like the fake me. She has REALLY thick skin (because it's all just a mask).
To hug is to be vulnerable. Something I only did superficially. But to be honest, to be real is the only way to live. All of my other issues began to fade. It suddenly clicked that you can only have real friends if they actually know the real you. And people will only get to know the real you if you actually let them in. 

So all in all.. my whole life was changed when I learned how to hug.