Five years ago, I woke up in a strange bed with my intended laying beside me. We had driven past midnight the previous evening until we reached our beach cottage. It was our last journey as illicit lovers lost in the ignorance that characterizes bliss. We awoke, had coffee, wrote vows together and met with our officiant.

We had a relaxed day, with lunch and rented scooter. An unmemorable prelude for many, but one I recall vividly. At sunset, we met the officiant and walked onto the beach barefoot at sunset to exchange vows to the cheers of observers in a neighboring cottage. In the blazing orange and pinks of the setting sun, we began our committed life together.

It’s difficult to believe how much time has passed. Trapped in the fog of second guessing (which most do, and are seldom secure enough to admit), I’ve often wondered, what if I had not pledged my loyalty to him? Would I have been someone other than who I am now or in a location other than this? All the visions are remarkably empty, there is no one else, only me. I can’t conceive of a life with any other. As a wise woman once told me,”I don’t think there is a better deal waiting for me, just more work.”

I knew it wouldn’t be easy when I said, I do, but I had no idea what the difficulty would entail or that it would be larger than our tiny union. It would be his baggage and my baggage. Neither of us propagates drama, but both of us are dragged onstage by family.

I haven’t been involved long enough to offer any sage advice of my own. I know there are phases in relationships that you can’t adequately prepare for. Even if offered a courtesy heads up, intoxicated by new love, you wouldn’t conceive that you would say or hear such callous words in the presence of your mate. Sooner or later, we all surprise ourselves.

I would be deceiving myself if I didn’t acknowledge love was easier in the beginning when it only included the two of us. His family was unaware, my family was suspicious but uninformed, and our personal friends were neatly compartmentalized.

Easier is not always better, just shallower. Now I know more of him. I better understand his longing for camaraderie, and his uncertainty about seeking it out. I appreciate and benefit from his compassion. I respect his loyalty to family, though it doesn’t change my approach to relationships. I feel honored he wants to be with me, bordering the edge of smothering.

Happy Anniversary, Hon. May we continue to rise to the occasion. Relishing the good, without giving in to the bad. I know it hasn’t been easy, and it won’t be. Anything worth having, is seldom given, and always requires work to maintain.