Milestones

 Tomorrow, I will have been married to this man for three years.  Three years is not a lot of time, but somehow it feels like maybe it's been longer than three years. The newness has worn off.  Usually this phrase carries negative connotations, I know.  But let me tell you how happy I am that it has.
"Newness" meant that it was weird to call Mr. Wonderful "husband."  It meant that I had a new last name, and contrary to movies and books and all things girlie, I didn't spend much time fantasizing about being Mrs. "Mr. Wonderful" before we got married.  I was not particularly excited to get a new last name.  I was okay with my old one.  I had mixed feelings about giving it up.  So I didn't totally give it up, though it's not my last name anymore.
And while we're on the subject, I NEVER EVER EVER want(ed) to be a Mrs.  I don't mean I didn't want to get married.  I mean I didn't want to be called Mrs. or Mrs. Wonderful.  I don't like the sound of it.  I didn't (and still don't) feel like "Mrs." is a part of who I am.  (I recognize that this is a social and legal reality.  I am a "Mrs." I'm just denying the label's claim over how I think of myself.)  I could continue on this rant, but that's not why I am writing, so back to the topic at hand.
Today I was thinking about all of this, and I realized that I am totally okay with my current last name.  I am used to it.  I think of myself as Clarissa Wonderful now.  (I know.  I know.  I should have thought of a better alias for Mr. Wonderful back when that became his name on this blog, but well, I couldn't have foreseen writing this post back then.  I will just go with telling you all that I realize just how conceited Clarissa "Wonderful" sounds.)  Somewhere in the last three years I also became okay with calling Mr. Wonderful "husband" instead of "boyfriend."
This makes me smile.  No more feeling strange.  Instead, I'm happy that I have a husband who loves me and who I love in return.
I'm still NOT okay with Mrs.

I miss every single one of you in this picture (except Mr. Wonderful, of course).  I wish we could have some sort of reunion.

P. S.  Randomly, somewhere in the last three years my signature became a glorious mess of hurried scribbles instead of the fabulousness it used to be.  I blame it on the new last name.  It's just not as easy to make look good as my last one was.