This one is from A Cupcake Wedding, on how marriage isn't the end of your life. She speaks to the feminist side of me, the part of me that worries about the political implications of getting married (in my own life and in the world).

I graduated from college, scored a job that sounded semi-impressive and moved in with my forever boyfriend. We rented a house with a lawn and adopted a dog.

To anyone who didn’t know me very well, my life seemed quite settled. I was on my way to being a successful professional with a nice husband.

But, that wasn’t the life I wanted. I wanted to travel, have adventures, feel passion. Instead, I had a cubicle and a boss I resented.

In this stalled state, I resisted marriage for quite some time, certain that the chains of commitment and the demands of wifedom would make me even more resentful about my life. I suppose I felt I simply had too much to give up. The endless possibilities that came with being a single, educated woman were that intoxicating, even if I hadn’t acted on them for some time.

Nevertheless, marry I did in a simple, whimsical ceremony this May that would make all the alternative girls in Wedding Land so proud. The boyfriend became husband, a word I still blush over. I wore a pretty little gold band on my hand. My brother asked when I was going to change my last name.

And then something wonderful happened.

Instead of feeling tied down or compromised, my whole life shone before me in a way I had never previously imagined.

Standing on the solid foundation of our relationship, I found the courage and freedom to reevaluate my future. My marriage made my adulthood very evident. The dreams I had so long ruminated over now had to be tackled.

I began to outline the novel I had always wanted to write and sent out a wave of resumes for jobs I had long eyed. I downloaded grant applications to teach in foreign countries and scheduled a GRE test.

I felt hope.

To be sure, all of this is still so new. There is a part of me that worries the momentum will soon die away, like the way my ambition sputtered to a crawl after I joined corporate America and quickly realized being smart was no longer enough to get by.

But a larger part of me feels like the joy of marriage, the certainty of being loved, the confidence his unwavering support gives me, will push me further than my childish dreams of becoming An Important Person ever did.

Sometimes, I hold his hand and marvel over the possibilities. Maybe I will teach Hispanic literature, creative writing or Spanish history. Maybe I will finish my book. Maybe we will move to Honduras and open a café.

In every scenario, I see him there, telling me how great I will be. I believe him.