Today is my wedding anniversary, of 18 years.
How did this happen?
At a guess, I’d say it has a whole lot to do with a willingness to fight for what we believed in, and a full acceptance by each of who the other person is.
Though, age is a funny thing when it comes to marriage.
Eighteen years ago, we were both still pretty young. Both, certainly, fairly selfish in what we wanted from a relationship. And certainly a couple with a duet of short fuses and a platoon of weird quirks that needed tolerating.
Now, after eighteen years of marriage, and almost twenty-three years together, we live in such comfortable acceptance of each other, it feels kinda wrong to be parted. Kinda like a half to the whole is missing, like there’s cold where there should be warmth. Even Mr B has gone from loving solo weekends away on his motorcycle, to hating going away without the rest of the family.
And we, neither of us, can exactly pinpoint when this switch in us occurred.
Sure, we had an episode in the marriage (as most couples do), where we sat down and realised things could be, and needed to be better, and we, instead of asking each other what they’d do about it, stated what we, ourselves, were willing to do. And somewhere along the line, the effort we were putting in ceased to be an effort until it became … natural.
Natural to put the needs and feelings of the other before ourselves. Natural to be willing to compromise. To talk when talks are needed. To be supportive and understanding. To ask instead of assume.
Eighteen years ago, I hoped but could never have predicted we’d still be here.
Today, I’m majorly happy we are.
Happy anniversary, babe.