Marriage is the greatest book I have ever begun to read. Not because it is perfectly written, but because every page is alive. Some chapters are tender and poetic. Others are uncomfortable, stretching me in ways I never expected. There are moments of laughter that feel like sunshine, and moments of silence that feel like storms. The truth is, I did not step into this story fully prepared for how much it would require of me, how much it would ask me to grow, to unlearn, to redefine myself, and to meet parts of me I had never had to confront before. The woman I was… and the woman I am becoming I entered marriage with love in my heart and dreams in my hands. But I also entered with identities that had shaped me for years: daughter, sister, friend, independent woman with her own rhythms, comforts, and ways of being. No one really talks about the quiet identity shift that happens after "I do." Not the wedding. Not the photographs. Not the honeymoon. But the emotional work of becoming someone's wife while still trying to remain yourself. There is a strange in-between space I now find myself living in. Not fully who I used to be. Not yet fully who I am becoming. Somewhere between "me" and "we." Marriage…
