I just celebrated my twentieth wedding anniversary. Well, I guess my husband gets some of the credit. I’ll rephrase – WE just celebrated OUR twentieth wedding anniversary. It’s a pretty big milestone and, if you’d asked me ten years ago, I’d never have guessed we’d still be married at this point. Ours is not a traditional love story. I didn’t fall in head-over-heels, can’t-live-without-him, he’s-my-best-friend in love with him until around year ten. I liked him before that. And I really, really disliked him before that.
If you’ve opened the cover of THE MAGIC OF I DO, you’ve seen that I dedicated this book to a couple of people. Jane Charles helped me keep going and get the book finished. But my parents set the foundation for my love of romance.
I will admit that I was a little disappointed when I first got married. The main reason – we didn’t have what my parents had. Not yet. Growing up, I had two loving parents who worked together as a team. They had this quiet, comfortable romance. I, in all my infinite 19 year old wisdom, thought their marriage was the template for all marriages, and I thought mine would be the same. I was terribly disappointed when I realized how much work a marriage could be.
It wasn’t the same as my parent’s. Not by a long shot. What? You have to be kidding me? Marriage was work? My parents made it look so effortless!
My own marriage was messy. It was passionate. It was busy. It was sometimes dreadful. It was sometimes amazing. But it wasn’t my parent’s marriage.
Sometime around year ten, my husband became my best friend. And that’s when things became fantastic. That’s when I found that head-over-heels feeling. That’s when we settled into a quiet comfort that I always knew was possible. I knew it was possible because my parents had it.
My marriage is nothing like theirs, even to this day. But it’s not supposed to be. It’s MY marriage after all. So, when I say that I found a comfort like theirs, it’s probably nothing like theirs, aside from the fact that it’s comfortable, makes me content, and we are happy. I still get that flutter-in-my-gut feeling when my husband comes home from a trip. Sometimes I get it when he comes home from work. Sometimes I get it when I think about him and he’s not there. Sometimes I want to rip his head off when he tweets something he shouldn’t. But that’s all part of my perfect marriage.
I was a lucky, lucky girl because I knew the perfect love story was real. It happened. My parents proved it. And for that, I will always be grateful, because their marriage is the foundation for every love story I have ever written.
How about you? Did you have expectations? Did life live up to your expectations?