Three Years.


Three years.  I was talking to this lady the other day and telling her about how Gary and I were going on a little getaway for our Anniversary.  She asked how long we had been married and I said three years.  She made a sound sort of like…oooooo-wwwweeeee…followed by…the first three years are the hardest.  Once you make it past three years, you’re golden.  I silently laughed to myself because I’m pretty sure someone has said that exact same thing to me about year one and year two.  And something tells me they will be saying it at year 4, 5 and 60 because what they really want to say is…girl, marriage is hard.  Congrats on another year.


Because that’s what needs to be said.  Congratulations on another @&$#-ing year.  Because this is hard.  Really hard.  And maybe there are people out there that live in these blissful marriages where everything is great all the time and their world is full of unicorns and butterflies.  But not my world.  And honestly, not anyone I’ve ever talked to.  Everyone is struggling through something but for some reason no one talks about it.  Which I get.  Who wants to air their dirty laundry?  But doesn’t it suck to feel so alone?  Like you’re the only one in the world who isn’t living out this perfect love story?  I struggled with that for a long time (and to be honest, still do).  That feeling like you aren’t measuring up.  Like you somehow have failed at this figurative expectation you’ve set for yourself?


But here’s the truth as I see it right now in this moment.  Today, Gary and I celebrate three years of marriage.  Three long, hard, huge, amazing years of marriage.  I didn’t throw the amazing in there just for shits and giggles.  Because to me, it’s the only part that matters.  Living a life with someone is a very big thing.  And big things aren’t easy.  Building something out of nothing and pushing and pulling your way to where you ultimately want to be.  Tackling the hard stuff and celebrating the good.  Basking in the in-betweens every chance you get.  It’s like this intricately choreographed dance that when you step back and look at it, is really beautiful.


I could have easily written ten paragraphs about all the reasons I love Gary and how great our life is and it all would have been true.  But what I want to remember when I look back on this post in one year, ten years, 50 years…is we are doing it.  We are picking each other up and doing the best we can.  And this dance that we’ve come to know as life…is honestly, pretty epic.


So babe, happy anniversary.  Thank you for loving me the way you do.  For pushing me to do the things I’m afraid to say out loud.  For believing in me when not an ounce of me believes in myself.  Thank you for always knowing exactly what I need and never saying no when I feel like sushi.  For patio nights and ice cream runs and always saying you love my face.  Even though I still adamantly believe that is not a valid compliment.  But most of all, congratulations on another year and thank you for all the things I know year four has in store.  I love you.  xo


  • Kasey - April 25, 2017 - 8:49 am

    Great post Lala! Happy Anniversary!ReplyCancel

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