On 20 Years of Marriage

And why "congratulations" doesn't seem like the right word.

My husband and I celebrated our 20th wedding anniversary a couple of weeks ago! Look at these two kids:

Twenty years is a long ass time, people! Both sets of our parents have been married for 50 years, which I know is rare.

Since 2004, we’ve had five children, numerous pets, moved across the country twice, resided in six houses (and two hotels), and lived 900 miles apart (Covid!) for 18 months.

Of course, people say, “Wow, congratulations! “While I understand the sentiment, I don’t know if the word ‘congratulations’ is correct. Is it? Maybe. I don’t have a suggestion for a better one but hear me out.

I’ve read many books (Liars, This American Ex-wife, as recent examples) that should be FUCK THIS MARRIAGE manifestos, and while they certainly didn’t make me leave my husband, of course, there were times I nodded my head while reading. You will never hear me say OH MY GOD, WHAT HAPPENED at the announcement of someone’s split, because after being married, one understands WHY people get divorced!

I’ve had close friends who’ve left marriages, and Congratulations were deserved. It was the right choice for them. I also know people in hellish, horrible situations who have openly admitted they are unhappy, waiting for kids to grow so they can get divorced, or suffering through other terrible things, and congratulating them for staying married doesn’t seem right. Does an anniversary of a wedding decide that a marriage is congratulations-worthy? I get that it’s a milestone, and maybe I don’t know what I’m trying to say here.

so young, dumb, and drunk, probably

Let me try again.

We often look back at pictures of the kids when we were little because they were so goddamn adorable, and there were so many of them, all at once, everywhere.

I MEAN LOOK!!!!!

Recently, Kale (my husband—yes, that’s his name, believe me, the jokes never end) looked at the above photo of our five children under seven years old and said, “Wow, I can’t believe we survived that.” To which I replied, “Well, I did become a raging alcoholic!” and we laughed and laughed because that’s the kind of weirdos we are. If we couldn’t laugh at what we’ve been through, it simply couldn’t work.