The other day, I was chatting with an acquaintance who had celebrated his wedding a few weeks before. As I congratulated him profusely, I asked how married life was treating him. He commented, positively. that it was weird, like it was a “big sleepover,” he kept expecting that one of them would be heading back soon, that he kept having to remind himself that this was their home now. And I couldn’t get over how strange that idea, a wedding as being followed by a new experience of living together, sounded to me.
Virtually everyone I know in my peer group lived together before marriage. Ten years ago, I didn’t even plan to, and I rejected saying it, but circumstances ended up to the point that it just seemed incredibly silly not to (I, a student at the time, even maintained an on-campus place (scholarship funded) for a few months of our engagement, even though I had never spent the night there, left nothing more than the backseat of a car full of “stuff” there, and didn’t even learn two of my three roommates’ names). I know people that, even into their late twenties, hid living situations from their parents, in a bizarre sort of don’t ask, don’t tell. But almost everyone lived together first.
It’s gotten to the point that not living together first just seems strange. Does that sound right?