By Mariah Williams
College life: a term students use that refers to a unique lifestyle characterized by wearing borderline sloppy clothes deemed unacceptable in non-college towns, drinking Keystone Light to get drunk cheaply, eating cereal for every meal, and hearing foul tailgate language — all while trying to pass classes for a chosen major after changing it (at least) five times.
As I entered the glory days, this was a definition I, myself, referenced. My plan was to party, pass my classes, earn a degree, and eventually marry a successful man whom I could take home to my parents.
However, what if you meet a mountain of a man who is 5 feet 11 inches tall, 26 years old, respectful, morally sound, handsome, and has a nerdy job that will get you out of your crappy college apartment during your communications internship? Have you ever considered that? Like, ‘OMG, this guy is straight up marriage material.’
So, what is a junior public relations student to do? She communicates a message to her cute wide receiver: “Put a ring on it.”
The goal: Make “Stud Muffin” fall in love with her (aka me).
The objective: Increase awareness of my awesomeness by 100 percent as soon as possible, measured by a number of flirty texts.
Tactic No. 1: Be my awkward self, once we get past the nitty gritty. He still needs to think I’m pretty… on the inside, so honesty about who I am is key.
Tactic No. 2: Take notice of his music taste by listening to similar bands to show him that I’m just as cool.
Tactic No. 3: Offer to host a video game night. Guys love a girl who can shoot a koopa shell at the back of his go-kart and earn first place — but if you’re really good, occasionally let him win. Don’t emasculate him for goodness sake!
After all those things, plus conversations lasting until 2 a.m., the goal was in sight. By the beginning of month two, we were Facebook official. (Because, everyone knows that it’s not real unless the general female public can see that he’s off the market.) Success.
We were having a blast together, yet the high-energy fun came with a side of exhaustion:
- Hanging out at his place means that you have to bring your whole kitchen over to make dinner.
- Studying is pushed to the back burner. A steady decline in grades begins to boil over your 3.75 GPA.
- You have to drive home at odd hours of the night to go back to your apartment and sleep in your own bed.
So, how did we solve this problem? We had the marriage talk, “but WAIT, you’re only 22 and still in school.” Yeah, well, I’ve been finished with the party scene for a while, and there is no man who can compare to the one who God has blessed me with. It may be hard to believe, but renewing my faith opened countless opportunities I never thought existed.
For the first time in my life, I didn’t have to pretend to be anyone else but myself. I felt worthy and loved, as every woman should. He treated me with nothing less than respect as we courted, or in other words, dating with a purpose. “What, I thought that was for old people, like my grandparents?” Nope! It’s a real thing, and if you can be patient, instead of accepting less than you deserve, you can find this kind of love, too. It’s well worth the wait — kind of like a front row parking spot at the Texas Tech Robert H. Ewalt Student Recreation Center (which rarely seems to happen).
My husband, Brian Williams, and I on our wedding day. Photographed by Becca Lea.
After seeing my relentless prayers answered, my original definition of “college life” changed. Posing with the crew for Party Time Mike, skipping class on the regular, and guys who couldn’t see past my exterior were no longer important. I was walking life beside a guy who wrote me letters just to remind me of how much I meant to him. Mind blown! “What is this, The Notebook?” In a way, I guess I have found my own Ryan Gosling.
Anyways, after pre-engagement counseling and a few months preparation, we said “I do” in the middle of a vineyard at Caprock Winery. It was beautiful. I had a floral crown, and he had a bow tie. Talk about real life hipsters — the only thing missing was a secret coffee brew from Yellow House.
No longer do I fight sleep to complete an exam or open my cabinet realizing I’m missing a bag of sugar. I get to stay in our apartment, watch “The Walking Dead,” do my homework and walk 20 feet to our bedroom. It’s not always perfect, but I can say my dreams are finally a pretty sweet reality. Good night to what used to be; good morning bling ring.
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