Today is a very special day in my household. Two years ago, Chad and I said “I do,” danced in our suit and gown, and gazed up at the stars for the first time as a married couple. Married at 22.
Before we got married, I always wondered: once we exchanged vows and threw the big party, would Chad and I stop celebrating our before anniversary? The original date when we got together, when it all began. Would we start from scratch?
It has officially been 730 days since Chad and I ate sugary mini donuts, posed for pictures we didn’t know how to take, and signed a contract. At 22, a new life adventure. Now, at 24, still as much.
September 16, 2017. Whether it was just yesterday or a lifetime ago, it’s hard for me to judge.
Here’s a truth about our marriage: every single moment of our time together has contributed to where we are now. Each embrace and giggle and declaration and tear and moment of silence have all mattered; shaped who we are and how we feel about each other, every day. Time feels both wildly silly and inexplicably important—so much that I I try to write about it in the context of our own relationship, as much as possible.
Two years ago, we made a promise—a declaration of love and devotion and sweetness—and kicked off an entirely new season of our lives. Today, we celebrate. We cheer to those 730 days, but also all the years that came before: the peaks and valleys of what it means to love deeply and truly and with plenty of imperfections.
Our wedding was honestly the best day of best day of my life. It was made so, though, as a cultivation of all the moments, big and small, that came before, and the successful marriage that has continued to flourish ever since.
Happy anniversary to the love of my life, my 5ever and always best friend. My husband. I love you, Chad.