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Essay 90: 20 year anniversary

I remember when we celebrated our 10th anniversary. We rented a house on the beach for three days and had a blast. I felt ecstatic.
We had made it: a decade had gone by and we still loved each other. We had sailed the rough oceans of the first years and we now enjoyed calm waters.
We stood in front of each other holding hands one night, looked each other in the eyes and said: “We both know what we’re in for now. The good, the bad, the ugly. Are we up for more? Yes!”, we both agreed, sealing the renewed promise with a kiss.

The kiss that sealed a promise that we’ve kept for another 10 years.

Ten more years have passed since. We celebrate our 20th anniversary today. The waters are still calm and more beautiful than ever.
When I stood at the altar just a few months shy of my 22nd birthday and said “I do”, I couldn’t have imagined this kind of life, this kind of love, twenty years down the line.

When we met and 10 years later

I became a woman with him by my side.
I became a mother with him by my side.
I hope I’ll become a wrinkled little old lady with him by my side.

I married a man I barely knew (we had met 8 months before). This is the only time of my life I’ve gambled, and boy, did I hit the jackpot.

This man I felt so connected to the very first day I met him has become my best friend, my hero.
I love him. I respect him. I admire him.
He is who I want to become when I grow up.
So gentle. So kind. So helpful.
Spend only a few minutes in his company and you’ll leave feeling special.
He makes ME feel special every day.

“What does your husband do when he gets mad at you?” asked a friend recently.
“Huh… he doesn’t get mad at me” was my answer.
Honestly, he doesn’t. He laughs at my quirks, accepts my differences and even applauds a few.

He has made my happiness and well being his life’s mission.He is my biggest supporter.
“How can I help?” “What can I do to make your day easier?” “You look tired, go take a nap”
“Just ask me, I’ll do it”.

I am so lucky.

In turn I strive to be a good wife.
Barely out of my teens when I married, I started as a spoiled immature girl with a feministic bend detrimental to building true intimacy.
The first years were rocky.
Marriage therapy helped.
Reading books helped.
Nagging less helped.

What is the secret of a long-lasting loving marriage?
One part luck, two parts work, three parts good will.

You have to be willing to talk.
You have to be willing to keep your mouth shut.
You have to be willing to ask for what you need.
You have to be willing to give what he needs.
You have to be willing to praise more.
You have to be willing to criticize less.
You have to be willing to take care of yourself.
You have to be willing to be on the same team.

Only then can you be happy.
A warm, secure, fulfilling kind of happy. A beautiful kind of happy.

When we got married, I had no concept of time but now I know deep in my heart that forever after IS an option. I am so very grateful for my dear husband who loves me so completely.

May we be blessed with many more years.

I shall not take even one day for granted.

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