18 is the number of years we have been married.

22 is the number of years we have been together.

I was 18, he was 17…

I am always in awe when I think about how long we have been together – not because it’s an OMG, has it only been that long, but because it doesn’t feel that way.

When we got married, we had just moved to Oregon. I was four months into my job.  He was trying to find a job.  We had just moved into our own apartment.  We had just gotten a cat – the one we still have.  It’s amazing to look back at where we got our start and compare it to now – 18 years later.

18 years ago, we got married and got a cat.

16 years ago, we moved in with Grandpa after grandma died, so he could stay in his house, mourn his wife, and travel without worry.

14 years ago, we bought a house and got another cat and G graduated from graduate school with his teaching degree.

13 years ago, we had a baby.

12 years ago, we got a dog.

11 years ago, we had another baby.

10 years ago, we got another dog.

We have had friends live with us.  Friends who have eaten most of their meals with us.  And family who we have helped along the way.

We got through my four months of unemployment when stress was insane.

We opened up our marriage and discovered we were capable of being poly.

We went through discovery of HSV2.

We went through discoveries of kink.

We have been through ups and downs.

And VW vans.

And throughout it all, he has been the steady, stable person in my life.  My friend. My love. The father to my kids.  We grew up together. And I think that is what has allowed us to continue to grow up – and make these discoveries without risk to our relationship.  Change has been an accepted constant – as has humor.

We have laughed and cried and held each others hand as we go through things.

18 years.

It’s not a surprise to either of us.

So here is to 18 more years.

To more adventures. And growth and love and laughter.

Happy anniversary, love.





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