Only 4 weeks ago, I was looking princess AF, in my blue dress, crossing over to the chill married Twitter, in a semi- intimate ceremony witnessed by dear friends and family.
You see, four weeks ago, my view of married Twitter from the headquarters of ‘Men are scum’ Twitter, was really chill, no gra-gra, no rubbish screenshots. No, I’m not talking about the agbayas that disgrace their spouses for sport sha!
I’m talking about those ones that were interesting but also couldn’t be arsed about how we singletons felt about pounded yam and Sunday Twitter arguments.
Let me tell you now, there’s no married Twitter abeg. If you were foolish single, marriage won’t suddenly make you a cool kid.
Also, those oversabi marriage prefects that won’t let us hear word, please face front, you don’t know SHIT!
On the flip side, I can casually drop “my husband this and that” into whatever conversations I have, you people haven’t seen anything yet.
Nobody has come to inspect my cooking pot and I haven’t experienced any of those scary ass stories people keep insisting comes with marriage, ope o!
While the most honest response I have to how married life is “e sweet die” , I don’t feel like I’ve done something ground-breaking. I haven’t cured cancer, I’m still figuring my own self out, becoming a better person and shit.
But really, I can’t wait to explore all the amazing things that lie ahead, I hope the ride gets better and even more awesome than I expect.
