The divorce rate in America is the highest of any other country at 50% with young couples placed at the highest risk for failure within the first few years of marriage. Statistics show a decline in the divorce rate with couples in their late 20s through 30s. My theory is those who marry young are lacking the maturity to deal with the many facets of married life. That part of their mentality is still under development and the cards stacked against us from the start.
On Christmas Eve 1978, I became engaged to my husband. I was 17 years old and a junior in high school. The happy news delighted our family and friends. Robin and I had dated for three years. Like any girl, the prospect of getting married thrilled me. What girl isn’t? Unfortunately, not everyone shared our enthusiasm for the upcoming nuptials. “Why,” you ask. We were mere youngsters and in the opposition’s eyes, we were acting on foolish, whimsical fantasies, but we believed otherwise.
This is where the skeptics entered our realm. They were do-gooders and meant well, but it you know how it is, you can’t tell a teenager anything because they are certain they know everything anyhow. In retrospect and looking through a parent’s eye, I would be quaking in my shoes if a young man wooed one of my daughters away at a young age. So, I clearly understand why some people were in protest of two young people getting married. Our critics’ main concern was my education. They were confident I wouldn’t finish my journey in earning my high school diploma.
I’m the oldest of four and ever since my mother took a job, she put me in charge of taking care of things around the house after school. That wasn’t unusual for a girl in southern West Virginia but I felt like a second mother to my brothers and sister. My soon-to-be husband was finishing up his education at a state college. He would graduate with high honors as valedictorian a few days before our wedding and fortunately, he had a job lined up after graduation with a Federal utility company in the Tennessee Valley.
It wasn’t uncommon for girls growing up in rural West Virginia to wed at young ages. I fell into the typical demographics for the region; I was anything, but typical, though. Despite wanting to be married, I didn’t want to begin a family right away. That was absolutely out of the norm. I defined my goals clearly to finish high school and then go to college. I was more than ever determined to prove the skeptics wrong. Who knows, maybe that was their plan all along – reverse psychology tactics?
The most thrilling occasion in a woman’s life arrived on June 9th for me. Was I nervous? Oh, you bet I was! Walking arm in arm, my daddy ushered me down the aisle as the pianist played the traditional Wedding march. A sea of emotions washed over, as I fought to hold the tears back I noticed my mother, grandmothers, and future mother-in-law all crying. Weddings are tear-jerking events. I’d like to tell you our ceremony was beautiful but I’d be fibbing if I told you anything other than the truth. I cannot remember a thing. I had the worst case of nervous jitters. It was so bad I could not even recite our vows properly. What the preacher asked me to repeat got mixed up in my head and my tongue felt heaving making it hard to form words. Somehow in it all, Reverend Gardner pronounced us husband and wife.
We survived the photo shoot and reception after the ceremony that went off with flying colors and then we were off for that most sacred and sanctifying marital trip, the Honeymoon. A special time for husband and wife to come together for the first time as God intended. Oh, the youthful innocence and time. Wouldn’t it be great if things were like that today to hold one’s chastity true until the appropriate time – one’s wedding night? My husband reserved a romantic cabin hideaway at the Blue Stone State Park nestled in the ‘Almost Heaven West Virginia’ mountains. It was perfect as was our week spent getting intimately acquainted.
After our unspoiled Honeymoon, we uprooted our few belongings headed for our new life in Knoxville, Tennessee. We rented a little place just outside the city limits. I straightaway got enrolled in a high school and we took care of all the necessary steps to make ourselves official transplants in the Tennessee Valley.
Beginning fresh at a new school held a certain anxious excitement but the luster quickly wore off. I found it difficult to make new friends. There were clicks and no room for the married, new kid. I believe there was only one other teenage girl married in the school besides me and she had a baby. I didn’t have common interests as these kids and felt out-of-place. To make matters worse, I had an English teacher who made my life miserable.
What should have been a happy time was anything but happy! I became so dissatisfied I began making excuses to stay out of school. All I wanted to do was to avoid the whole unpleasant situation. I became almost depressed with a despairing gloom hanging over me like a thick dark cloud. I felt my dreams crashing around me. The nagging skeptic words, “You’ll never finish school,” rang in my mind like a bad nursery rhythm. I pulled myself out of my self-pity and fought my way out of the mess I created. I went back to class and found a way to make things work. One thing that helped was when I transferred my high school transcript to my new school, I was actually at an advantage compared to other classmates. I had extra credit hours which allowed me to graduate three months early. I was proud to walk across the coliseum stage to receive my high school diploma in June 1980.
On our first anniversary, the family began asking us when we would have children. That wasn’t in my immediate future; I had yet to go to college and buy a home. That fall not only did I begin my associate degree studies at a technical school, we bought a house with the help of a special loan for first time home owners. We so blessed with this opportunity. The housing and banking industries were in horrible trouble in the early 80s but this loan made it easier and affordable for us to invest in our own place. I was only 18 years old and felt accomplished somehow.
In the spring of 1983, I completed my second original goal – college graduation. The fall of that year, I started my career as a computer sales consultant for a small business. I learned that I wasn’t salesman’s material but I gained a wealth of valuable training. The five years that preceded, I went through several positions with each superseding the last. Coincidentally, during this period, my motherly urges would rise and fall like ocean waves. One minute, I wanted a baby and then the next, I didn’t. I contributed these swells of emotions on the circumstances which surrounded me. All of my girlfriends were having babies and this planted the seed of yearning in me.
We began entertaining the idea of parenthood by our 8th anniversary. However, we were uneasy with the unknown. After all, this meant giving up our freedom to dedicate ourselves to little people. It seemed like a frightening, daunting task and part us wondered if we were ready for it. Children are an enormous responsibility and one we didn’t take lightly. Could we handle the demands that come with the territory? We placed things on a hold but by the fall of 1987, those ole parenting sentiments hit an all-time high. At last, we pushed aside the doubt hindering us for years and listened to what God wanted which was to start a family.
We shared the last 31-years together and have three children. I was fortunate to leave the workforce in 1988 after our first child’s birth and have been happy to remain in the home camp as Mommy, housewife, and home educator. We are happier together today than the day we got married. It’s quite true many young couples do not survive their youthful marriages. I credit our own success to God. He is the glue that has kept us together. His leadership has provided a path for us to follow, as we grew up as individuals while remaining as one. We are not only husband and wife, but each other’s best friend. We have learned building a marriage takes many years of tender cultivating and we are happy that we stuck it out ‘for better or for worse’ as we promised in our wedding vows. Although, the grass may appear to be greener on the other side of the fence sometimes, let’s face it; it’s just as green on our side, too. Like our wedding vows, we’ll keep to the closing, ‘until death do us part.’ Married at 17, success or failure? I’ll let you decide.
