To a better us.

At the age of 23 where wisdom is scarce and vainglory is too common, I have the most wonderful husband anyone could ever ask for. 

Speaking of, we’ve hit that one-year mark of our marriage! A milestone that is. Alhamdulillah!

Three years of courtship plus one year of marriage, and I’m still crazy over this man. Talk about head over heels craziness. He still gives me butterflies, as much as he gives me headaches, of course. 

Last time whenever we hit that anniversary or monthly countdown (yes, I used to count each passing month), a sense of pride and achievement bloomed over me. Look how far we’ve got! Pseesh, how naïve I was. 

This time, I had quite a reflection of where I am now. 

One year and I’m not entirely sure of what I have achieved. 

I’m still not a good wife, far from perfect. My ego is still mountain high. I don’t think my humility has by any means grown over the past one year. I’m still struggling with my own definition of modesty. I’m still forever contemplating if I should style my scarf the way I really should, or the way I want it to be. I still cry to sleep some nights because I don’t know how to share my feelings in words like a normal human does. Worst of all, I still have McDonalds. 

One year, and I’m still here. 

On a brighter note, one year, and I’ve only had four McDonalds. Soo.. Err.. Yeay? 

Life is a constant struggle --

I have to admit; I once thought that marriage would make me a better person. I couldn’t be more wrong. 

Being married motivates me to be better, but it doesn’t change me per se. 

You choose to be better. You choose to change. The “Aku terima nikahnya..” wouldn’t mean a thing if you didn’t intent to make it something. 

For instance, to wear scarf in front of my in laws. I had this conversation with a friend once, about how hard it is, especially when no one in the family does it. I remember telling Adam how I wanted to do it because I didn’t want to start being comfortable with not covering myself like how I am with my cousins now. I couldn’t bring myself to wear scarf in front of them because I’m too used to not to. 

How ironic that I am stressing over covering myself in front of my in laws, when I still go out to hang the clothes or get the mails or even open the gate, with my hair exposed. 

Good thing is, I now contemplate when it comes to wearing scarf and covering myself properly. Never mind the relapse, contemplating is already something! Success rate, that’s a different story. Baby steps, people, baby steps. 

One year. 

Each passing day is a bliss, each passing moment (whether or not we annoy each other) is a gift. To a better us ---

I love you husband.