“Getting hitched is one of the most unorthodox things two people can do.” Those were my dad’s words on my wedding day, and I had to chuckle because that’s just classic Dad. He and Mom never sugar-coated marriage. Growing up, it was clear that it wasn’t a walk in the park. It was challenging, bumpy, and at times maddening—but ultimately, it was worth every bit of it.
The night I met Alex was at a party with my boyfriend, and let me tell you, Alex knew right away that I was the one. Now, if you know Alex, you understand that making decisions can be a struggle for him (he once spent an hour deciding which flavor of ice cream to buy). But with me? He just knew.
Our story began with Alex chasing after me—only for me to reject him time and again. But when we finally started dating, it was a whirlwind. Just five months later, I was sporting a ring, and before I knew it, we were married, had two kids, a house, and a cancer diagnosis thrown into the mix.
Alex still can’t shake the memory of that day in the garage, putting up insulation when we got the call about my invasive ductal carcinoma. I’ll never forget how we clung to each other, tears streaming down our faces. How did we end up here?
Determined to make sense of it all, Alex bought a pink leather journal and took it to every doctor’s appointment, jotting down everything the doctors said. He highlighted the hopeful bits and read them back to me during my darkest moments.
He took charge of bedtime routines, made sure the boys were fed and tucked in, and plastered a smile on his face while getting them ready for school. He folded laundry, shaved my head, and brewed tea like a pro. “In sickness and in health,” we tell each other.
Our marriage isn’t a polished picture. It’s messy and real. We don’t always see eye to eye. Sometimes I roll my eyes or give him a cheeky gesture behind his back (sorry, babe—never in front of the kiddos), or I might stomp up the stairs in a huff. We have moments where we feel overlooked or unheard, and yes, we dig up the messy stuff to sort through it.
But, let’s get one thing straight: it’s not like the movies. We’re not cruising in a convertible with the wind in our hair or tossing rose petals on the bed. No, what we have is better.
It’s the small, everyday moments: Alex waits for me to sit down before he starts eating. He always says “bless you” when I sneeze—even during a spat. He preps my toothbrush when I’m running late, whips up smoothies with organic fruit (even if he grumbles about the price), washes my car, and holds my hand during errands. He tickles our kids until they can’t breathe from laughter, picks up trash he sees on the sidewalk, shovels neighbors’ driveways, and sings along to our favorite tunes while making pancakes on Saturday mornings.
And most importantly, he loves me—flaws and all. He sees beyond the surface and embraces the hidden parts of me. That feels like magic, like moonlight glistening on the ocean, like snowflakes dancing in the wind, like the sun warming my face.
During one of my toughest moments battling cancer, I told him, “I’d rather be sick with you than healthy without you.” And that sentiment rings true.
Just last month, we celebrated an early anniversary with a trip to the Rocky Mountain National Forest. On our final day, we rose early to hike to a serene lake and watch the sunrise. We found the perfect spot, and I set up the camera for a picture of us—backs to the lens, knees touching, me leaning into him. Together, we watched the darkness dissolve, reminding us that light always returns.
Ten Septembers ago, I made the best decision of my life: I married Alex. He helps me be the best version of myself, and I hope I do the same for him.
Marriage isn’t about wind in your hair as you glide through life; it’s holding hands while storms rage around you. It’s getting soaked by life and patiently waiting for the sun to dry you off. It’s about repeatedly choosing to reach out to each other, promising to embrace all parts of yourself—the beautiful and the imperfect. It’s about maintaining eye contact no matter what.
It’s hard, it’s messy, it’s beautiful, it’s real. And it’s absolutely worth it.
For more insights on relationships and family, check out our post on home insemination or explore resources from Make a Mom and Johns Hopkins for all things related to pregnancy and home insemination.
In summary, while marriage can be a roller coaster of emotions and challenges, it’s the deep connection and unwavering support that make it all worthwhile.