I may have been less than honest during my wedding vows.
My partner, James, and I couldn’t be more different if we tried. He revels in the comforts of home, enjoys cozy dinners on a budget, loves renovating houses, and often loses himself in the latest documentary about unusual philosophies. Meanwhile, I’m always on the move, preferring spontaneous adventures, splurging on experiences, and I can only binge-watch documentaries about World War II, or a good season of Game of Thrones. Well, maybe The Office too.
Our journey began with mutual friends—two of whom were honored to stand by us on our wedding day. Our initial meeting was a lively debate about the Italian and Greek empires. It was entertaining, undoubtedly lacking in accuracy, and set the tone for our dynamic.
Initially, we bonded over shared interests: a passion for labor rights, love for classic American cars (Team BUICK!), light-hearted family anecdotes, and an endless desire to challenge one another. It was exhilarating and fast-paced, but lacked the foundation for a lasting partnership.
When we moved in together, the energy shifted. Our spirited discussions morphed into heated arguments over mundane issues like laundry left unattended for a mere three days, escalating into harsh critiques of each other’s character. And that’s what marriage really is about—choosing your battles wisely.
It’s about acknowledging each other’s flaws and understanding whether they are less significant than the wonderful qualities that drew you together in the first place. Marriage is a daily choice, a commitment that remains until it doesn’t—whether that’s through divorce or death.
James thinks I come off as condescending when I’m upset, while I believe he tends to overreact to trivial matters. We might both be right, but we also have a knack for being overly sensitive to each other’s quirks. Ironically, the traits that annoy me about him now were the very ones that captivated me when we first fell in love.
Back in 2012, I described him as “loyal,” someone who fiercely defends his friends, no matter the circumstance. If you asked him then, he might have called me ambitious and brilliant. Fast forward to now, and during a heated moment, he might label me as manipulative in arguments, using rhetoric as a weapon. See how perspectives shift?
While we can negotiate household chores or who takes the early shift with the baby, compromising on our core values isn’t an option. Those very traits could either lead to the end of our marriage or be the glue that holds it together.
I love James, and that will never change. He’s given me a beautiful child, endless laughter, immense self-confidence, and yes—a dishwasher. But if we ever reach a point where being together becomes unbearable, we will always maintain an open line of communication to ensure we do what’s best for us and our child.
Marriage requires a conscious choice every single day. On June 21, 2015, I didn’t verbalize it, but I commit to always prioritizing him. I vow to work through any absurd arguments we face. I promise to put our child first. Most importantly, I vow to never let my relationship with him feel like an obligation; he deserves to be my favorite choice, and I deserve the same in return. If that ever falters, I will speak up. He will never be a duty but always a remarkable decision.