I knew at least a few people expected we wouldn’t go through with it; my own father, just a month shy of the wedding, asked whether “this thing was for real” before he paid the final deposit on the reception venue. What he said was harsh, yes, but by that point, I’d already endured two years of rude questions and backhanded compliments, and nothing could shock me. I was numb. (Plus, I was grateful that my father was generous enough to help pay for our wedding, since my fiancé and I definitely couldn't foot the bill all on our own.)One time, I was at a party and found myself chatting with two guys. Though the conversation couldn’t have lasted more than a few moments, I overheard someone behind us whispering loudly about whether “an engaged person should be acting like that.” To this day, I’m not sure why this person cared what I was doing (I didn’t know her), but her comment embarrassed me so much that I excused myself and went home. I knew I wasn’t doing anything wrong — obviously, we can all talk to whomever we want, married or otherwise. But at the time, there was a part of me that felt like I deserved all the ridicule, because I was doing something that pretty much everyone mocks.To combat all the confusion and pent-up anger I was feeling at the time, I went comically and cruelly out of my way to prove my independence. At this point in our relationship, my fiancé and I were doing long-distance while he attended pharmacy school two hours away. Most couples hate long-distance; I loved it, because I didn’t have to try so hard to prove that we each did our own thing. When he offered to make the drive so we could spend Valentine’s Day together, I told him I already had plans with my friend Emma. If he called while I was out with friends, I’d let it go to voicemail and just text him goodnight instead. Before you start questioning my maturity here, let me point out that when your relationship is on the receiving end of that many bad vibes, it’s bound to mess with your head. As you can probably guess, my actions caused some problems between us. But my groom-to-be and I worked through them because we’ve learned to give one another the benefit of the doubt, we’re willing to make changes if it’s for the good of our relationship, and, among other things, we really, really love each other.People often suggest that we “missed out” on certain things by getting married so young, which I have never understood. I’m generally a curious and adventurous person who’s up for trying new things; so is my now-husband, which is part of the reason I married him. The idea that either of us wouldn’t do something we wanted to do — travel, take a major career leap, move to a new city — because of our marriage is ridiculous and, frankly, insulting.It’s also been said that getting married in your early 20s is a bad idea because you’re still “finding yourself,” which I’ll admit is half true. You are still finding yourself, but that could be said about any age because, as humans, we never stop evolving. The concern here needn’t be whether you or your partner will change from the person you were on your wedding day — that will happen no matter what, regardless of how old you are when you say “I do.” The real challenge, in any marriage, is committing to nurturing your relationship as both people grow and progress. That requires some work, yes, but I think marrying young actually makes it easier, because we haven’t yet become set in our ways. Maybe this sounds naïve (another perk of marrying young!), but I’ve found that when two people want the best for each other, you figure out a way to do the things that make you both happy.I turned 29 a couple months ago, and while there are a few things about the end of my 20s that I’m currently mourning, finally reaching an age at which I no longer have to deal with people commenting on my marital status isn’t one of them. Now I can mention my husband or the fact that I’m married without any of the anxiety I once felt; my only regret is that it should have always been this way. Because there is no timeline that dictates “sow your oats here,” “discover yourself here,” “reach this salary here,” “get married here” — those sorts of deadlines are all arbitrary and, anyway, love doesn’t care about your plans. Sometimes the Real Deal comes along a little sooner than expected. And if that happens, we should all be open to it.