I Only Married My Husband Because Of Timing

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I Only Married My Husband Because of Timing

It was rushed, to say the least.

At a certain point, not too far into dating, my relationship with my love hit an impasse. We literally couldn't stay where we were, and we couldn't move forward without making a big decision. There was a solution to our problem, an elephant looming in the room, and it was time to bring it out of the shadows.

"I guess it's time to talk marriage," my boyfriend said.

We had been together for a year and a half, which is long enough for some, but we were in our early twenties. I was straight out of college and neither of us had established a career. We had no savings, didn't own a house and still wanted to travel.

But for us, the time was right.

We have an international relationship I'm from the U.S., he's from Australia, and we had spent the previous 18 months flitting about the globe, staying wherever the visa and immigration laws allowed us to be together.

We stayed in London, where we met, for a few months, and he came to the United States for as long as he could. I moved to Australia for over a year. But as we looked at where to go next, scouring blogs about immigration laws and working visas, we knew that we had exhausted our options.

It was time to prove to the governments that we were serious with a wedding.

"We should go look at rings, I guess," I said. We looked at each other for a beat and burst out laughing at our awkward, stinted responses. It wasn't what either of us had imagined, having a discussion about Holy Matrimony that was sparked by immigration law.

"You're my green card girl," he said.

"We're getting married," I replied, testing out the phrasing. I smirked as I leapt into his arms, knowing that however the discussion came about, it was one I was thrilled to be having.

We had sacrificed for each other, and prioritized our relationship above all else for the past year-and-a-half. We knew without a doubt that we wanted to be together forever, even if it was Uncle Sam that was urging us to tie the knot sooner rather than later.

Over the next few weeks we shopped for rings. On a Tuesday night, he surprised me by proposing with a ring he had found all on his own. It was completely different from any we had looked at, but it was perfect a welcome element of surprise in an unusually formal decision to wed.

As we planned the wedding, we navigated the immigration process, sending visa paperwork as we picked our bridal colors and interviewed officiants. We rushed some things along to better fit our immigration timetable, but sometimes we pushed back, taking slow, quiet time to savor the process. After all, you only get married once.

"You're a baby," the woman at city hall informed me when we applied for our marriage license. I bit my tongue and resisted the urge to inform her that the government she worked for was actually dictating that we get married so young if we wanted to stay together.

Instead, I smiled and shrugged, letting her assume whatever she wanted about our relationship. I knew, no matter what prompted us to reevaluate the timetable of our relationship, the timing worked perfectly for us.



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