Wooden Anniversary

A week ago, my husband and I celebrated our fifth wedding anniversary... by being sick with a cold together. In sickness and in health and all that, I guess.

It feels kind of wild to me that we've already been married for that long. I think the fact that about half of that time was spent at home with restrictions to going out due to the pandemic kind of warped our perception of time a bit.

Altogether, we've been a couple for more than ten years now. And I'm pleased to say that I'm still excited to see him in the evenings.

I remember in my twenties I was a bit worried for a while that something was wrong with me, because all my romantic relationships, regardless of how earnestly I felt about them, would eventually fizzle out around the three-year mark. I was wondering whether I was just incapable of maintaining interest in a relationship for longer than that.

But no, it turns out I just hadn't met the right guy yet... or reached the right age myself. Because I definitely think that I also just... wasn't really ready to get married to any of the guys before him, regardless of how much I may have been in love at the time. How could I have been, when I didn't even start feeling like a proper adult until thirty-one?

Getting older is a bummer in many ways, but I definitely don't miss feeling anxious about what I want in life. Being more settled and content like this has its perks.

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