best dress

Right after my husband and I returned from our honeymoon, everyone asked us: "How's married life?" Jason and I had lived together for more than a year and been a couple for three. But before meeting each other on OkCupid, we'd been frenetic daters, trying to make up for the long stretch we'd each spent with the wrong partner. Now, finally, I'd found my person, and we'd made it official. So when people asked about our post-wedding lives, I'd say, "It's great!" my voice full of excitement.

Jason was less enthusiastic. "It's the same," he'd answer bluntly, as though our marriage was a nagging detail he hoped to forget. At first, I found his reaction amusing. After all, it's not like we now texted constantly about how much we loved married life. But one night, two months after our wedding, I realized something was very wrong. We were out for drinks when I overheard Jason tell a friend, "I settled down really soon after my last breakup." I was stunned. Was he saying our vows had been a mistake?

Pictures: bridal gowns

Deep down, I'd known that things between us had changed, just not in the way I'd expected. Since the honeymoon, Jason had been more distant than usual, less casually affectionate and communicative. If we hadn't just gotten married, I would have recognized this behavior as the classic precursors to a breakup. But this guy wasn't some noncommittal boyfriend. He was the person who had stood up in front of 300 of our family and friends and pledged to be my life partner. And so by the time we got home, I was on the verge of tears. We'd barely made it through the door when I demanded an explanation. Did he wish he hadn't married me?

Jason looked confused. "You just said you settled down too soon!" I said. "And when people ask you about married life, you always say, 'It's the same,' like you're pissed off." The tears were spilling now, a panic rising in my chest. As long as I'd contained my fears beneath a steel-strong optimism, I could more or less ignore them. No longer.

"But being married is the same," he said."You made the biggest commitment of your life," I answered. "How can you be so blasé?" I needed to know: Why the distance? This wasn't how newlyweds were supposed to act. Even if PDA-filled Instagram posts weren't his style, I'd at least expected an endearingly embarrassed smile whenever someone asked about the honeymoon. But as we talked, it became apparent that Jason was intent on proclaiming that things were the same because he was terrified by how different they might truly be. "When I proposed, I knew intellectually what I was doing," he said. "But emotionally, I couldn't have known what those vows really meant until I made them."

My head buzzed. How was it possible that I'd known exactly what I was getting into but Jason did not? The idea was infuriating and shocking in equal measure. "Before, everything was changeable," he told me. "The permanence of this is really intense."

But permanence is the essence of marriage. And yet when I thought about why the idea of "forever" didn't bother me, I realized I still thought of my life as my own. I was still me, just married. But since the wedding, Jason and I had been together nonstop, which…was kind of weird. I pointed out to him that now if I wanted to leave a party or a bar night with friends, he went home with me, no questions asked. Before the wedding, if he wanted to stay longer, he would. It was like he was operating under a new set of stifling expectations associated with "married life." I'd spent years thinking about what my married future might look like, but like a lot of guys, he hadn't grown up imagining his.

With relief, I watched waves of recognition spread across his face. "You know," I said, "I don't want a husband without an independent social life. You should be going out with your guys more. Close down the bar if you want. I'm fine with it."

And so he did. We still did things as a couple, but every few weeks, he'd make plans with the dudes while I had drinks with my friends or ordered takeout and watched a trashy/amazing movie. It was only then that things really started to change between us—which is to say they returned to the right kind of "same," with the casual affection and closeness we'd had before getting married.

In fact, the more time my husband spent with his single friends, the happier he felt being hitched. Dating life, with its boozy hookups and melodrama, had been exciting, but it could also be stressful. So while he liked the idea of having that freedom, he was ready for something different. And in any case, he said, he could have boozy hookups with me.

Read: bridesmaid dresses online

In confronting his belated cold feet about married life, I realized Jason was right: You can't know what a life commitment means before you make it. Even after you've made it, you still don't know what it's going to mean a year later…or 5 or 50. It's like trying to measure the Grand Canyon: You can see its vastness from above, but you can't understand how big it really is until you've trekked into the core. That's scary, but it's also exciting. It means that four years into our marriage, there's always something to discover. We have an adorable 5-month-old son now. Watching Jason adapt to fatherhood has shown me a completely new side to his personality, even as it has become harder to keep up our own lives while navigating the stresses of parenthood. I know Jason sorely needs a night out with the guys. So I'll be taking over diaper changes while he takes a break from Planet Baby, and I know he'll do the same for me.