Tomorrow my marriage will officially be an adult. 18 years ago, my hubby and I got married at Magic Wings Butterfly Conservatory in South Deerfield, MA. There were storms and pouring rain as my mom, sister-in-law, and I drove up the Pike. It was so bad, and we had to drive so slowly that I was late for the wedding. It wasn’t like they were going to start without me. I wore a periwinkle blue and white dress my mom and grandmother made from a Shakespearian costume pattern. The conservatory was a great idea because we didn’t have to decorate and there were flowers in bloom everywhere, and we got to spend more time enjoying ourselves.

Our reception was in my mom’s backyard under a tent. It poured the whole night, and David and I left in a lull from the storm. It was simple and not too big. I never had the dream wedding planned in my head and hadn’t thought much about it until David asked me 5 months to the day on New Year’s Eve just before midnight. We picked the same anniversary that we’d had for 9 years up until then. Why learn a new date. Our first official date was my senior prom 27 years ago. My mom also made that dress. I still have both.
David and I weren’t high school sweethearts. We didn’t even live in the same state. We met at summer camp in the Berkshires of Massachusetts 28 years ago this summer. So Monday is our 18/27 anniversary. Our marriage is officially an adult who can gamble and vote.

It’s insane to think of all the things that have happened since we met. We both graduated from high school, got driver’s licenses, turned 18, turned 21, turned 40, went to college in our own time. David has an MBA, and I’m working on my MA. We’ve lived in a couple of states and visited other countries. Lost some friends and family. Attended way too many concerts to count. Argued. Stood by each other on horrible days. Called each other out for being dumb. Had each other’s backs. David was with me through the worst years of my illness. I held and threw out his filled seasickness bags on the whale watch we took on our honeymoon. I think I was the only one not to throw up on that boat. We bought a house for our 10th anniversary. We’ve seen each other low, and we’ve seen each other high.

A few years ago, we separately met the same person around the same time, me through my job and him through college. He was so sweet. One day he asked me if I was married, and I said yes. He asked if I was happy, and I said yes. He said, “Too bad. There’s this guy I wanted to introduce you to. I think you’d be great together.” Later we figured out he wanted to introduce me to David. He was so happy that we’d already found one another.

Here are 10 things I’ve learned after 18/27 anniversaries:
- I’m terrible at dating advice. I don’t know why people insist on asking me. I might be a little ok with marriage advice.
- We chose each other. We don’t feel stuck or like we had to marry each other.
- We have good days and bad days, and we’re still married.
- We’re married to another human being. He’s not perfect. I’m not perfect. We’re just doing the best we can.
- He’s learned I like a little more personal space. I’ve learned he likes less personal space. So, we work on our balance.
- Our marriage is made up of 3 elements. Him, me, and the marriage itself. All 3 need care. Oh, and the 2 kitties. They also need care.
- We each need some things of our own. Our own toothbrush, our own computer, our own desk.
- Between his shellfish allergy and my inability to eat gluten, we can’t eat a lobster roll.
- We love traveling together, but I get to play DJ.
- We assemble furniture well together without wanting a divorce by the time we’re done.
Happy Anniversary David! I love you, babe. Here’s to many more!!

Being able to assemble furniture together makes you, David, and your marriage all waaaay above average! Happy anniversary and many more.
Ha! Thank you. We’re pretty proud of our ability to assemble furniture that doesn’t fall apart. My grandmother offered that advice to us. For her is was about refinishing old furniture with my grandfather. Same idea. Teamwork.