OK, the word ‘fear’ is a bit dramatic. Worried, concerned, or even scared might cover it. Anxious is a bit closer.
I’m taking Hubby home, to my home, to New Zealand for the first time. We’ve had very different upbringings – him, a reasonably privileged private school boy. Me, a semi-rural girl with an RD postal address.
He’s about to enter my world. To see where I grew up, the family home, and what he terms the ‘yacht club’. Hubby is being thrown in the deep end straight into my friend’s stag do with guys he’s never met before on our first day in NZ. Sink or swim! (Or drown with jet lag).
While he’s met my parents and brother, he has yet to be approved by my wider family, especially Nana. No drinking from the bottle now!
On the flipside, he will see the beauty of my world. The lush greenery (providing it rains before we get there!), the beaches, the winding roads. He’ll get to meet some of my favourite and treasured people. I’ll get to play tour guide and show him my favourite places. And I may even get to push him off a bridge.
Despite what he thinks once we’re there, we’re married, my world is now he. And he’s stuck with it!
Where’s the fear in that?