Six years ago, I was sitting at one of those awkward combined-chair-desk things in a poorly lit classroom, working on my math homework under my desk. Stellar student, right? I was tuning out my 11th-grade honors English teacher as she waxed poetic about "the potential of college." I felt like I didn't need to listen as I already had my dream school picked out. Who needed to listen to this? With my stellar academics and wall lined with Girl Scout achievements and nerdy plaques, I had college in the bag.
Then, after declaring in a scratchy voice, “Ladies, listen up,” she wrote on the board three letters: “M….R…..S….,” and said, “This is what most of you are going to get in college.”
That got my attention.
This was the first time I heard of the “Mrs." degree. It certainly wouldn't be the last. Forced gender and societal expectations aside, I was a little weirded out at the notion that I could potentially get married in college. You know, married. The kind where you spend your entire life with someone, 'til death do you part. Sixteen-year-old bespectacled and pimply me simply could not fathom such a concept, even though I had a new crush every week (hey, we all had one). Growing up sounded terrifying; bills and taxes and babies were quite a lot of responsibility.
Fast-forward a couple years and I am now in my fourth year of college. No "Mrs." degree, or actual degree to be seen yet. I still have yet to meet the one and have one of those epic “getting-together” stories that all couples seem to have. For example, my parents met because she literally fainted in his arms. You can't really top that. You can't.
Time is running out to get that ring by spring, and yet I'm okay with having a "Miss" degree and not a "Mrs." degree. Even though I have my entire wedding planned out on Pinterest, it doesn't have to happen in the next year for me to find meaning and fulfillment at college. Where my fulfillment and meaning come from are the Lord and the time spent with dear friends.
In addition, 23-year-old me is much less weirded out by the concept of lifelong commitment, self-sacrifice, and vulnerability. Growing up still sounds terrifying, but I have learned to look at it as an adventure—an adventure that God provides us and always protects us and our hearts through.
I still want my “Mrs.” degree, but it doesn’t have to come during my college years. It may never even come at all. And I am content with that. Sometimes the best things in life happen when we stop looking for them.
