My husband and I recently celebrated our tenth wedding anniversary. Ten years of wedded bliss. Actually, I’ve used a new iPad app to determine exactly how many of our 3,650 days together have been blissful and how many – not so much.
Ten Years. That’s a long time for two people with well-documented commitment issues. We’ve had our ups and downs and have the bumps and bruises on our love to prove it.
Overall, it’s been a happy, laughter-filled road to ten years. But I don’t have anything concrete to compare it to. I could compare ours to our family or friends’ marriages, but who really knows what goes on in a marriage? And comparisons burn my ass every time.
While my husband and I are similar in many of the areas marriage experts say really matter: mutual love and affection (at opposite times of the day), shared values (laughter), strong commitments (in-patient and out-), similar money styles (cheap), compatible sex drives (at opposite times of the day), and intense love for our children (when they’re asleep), our differences can be summed up in this exchange:
Me: What happened to the silverware?
Mike: I moved it. It’s now in the drawer nearest the phone.
Mike: We needed a change. I’m shaking things up a little!
Me: What? Messing with the silverware is your idea of “shaking things up?” What’s next – unpotting the plants? The silverware was fine where it was!
Mike: I’m a renegade, honey. I thrive on change. Wait until you see the family room!
Where Mike embraces change, even seeks it out, I resist, fight and usually, after some drawer slamming and angry muttering, come around. Actually, the silverware works well by the telephone. The family room redesign – not so much.
Although we expertly push each other’s buttons, mostly we laugh, value each’s contribution to our family and love the bee-jeezus out of each other and our kids. And then we laugh some more.
At a recent wedding we attended, Mike and I considered whether we would want to be newly married again, our entire lives together in front of us. We decided not unless we could begin with all the hard-won wisdom we’ve gained over the past ten years.
We’ve walked through a lot together, and we both give as good as we get. On our recent anniversary getaway weekend, Mike told me that he understood going in to our marriage that I was going to be a pain in his ass. And that he was going to be a pain in mine. That we both deserved exactly what we got. And we both couldn’t have made a better choice. I think that’s romantic.
And, yes, I would do it all over again. Would you?
“He’s my baby
And I’m his honey
Never gonna let him go.”
John Prine, In Spite of Ourselves