Today is my two year wedding anniversary.
Last year I wrote a cute little post about my one year anniversary and stocked it full of memorable photos from our wedding day. It was perfect because our first year as newlyweds was coming to an end and reflecting back on our nuptials made sense.
This year, I’m focusing on the real parts of marriage because the wedding is only day one. It’s the behind-the-scenes stuff that makes marriage real. It’s making your spouse turkey bacon each weekend. It’s bringing them a mushy buffet of pudding, soup, and mashed potatoes after oral surgery. It’s waking up at 5am on a Sunday (with only limited grumbling) to go cheer them on at a Triathlon.
Fancy wedding photos are nice but they’re in no way a part of marriage. This year, I went through my phone and found a few buried photos I never shared on social media.
Sometimes, the urge to capture a moment strikes and I don’t worry about sharing, or editing, or lighting. I just want to remember. I want to be able to look back at the times we danced.
I want to remember what we looked like. Frizzy hair, no make-up, squinty eyes. That’s what’s authentic.
When I got married a few older relatives told me that the easiest part was now over. I disagree. These last two years have been the easiest, most supportive years of my silly little life thus far. I’m not stupid. I know there will be rough seas, but there is no one else I’d rather voyage those seas with. Plus, then we would be pirates which is fucking awesome.
Two years of marriage down, (Hopefully) fifty more to go, and hundreds of random photos to capture our extraordinary ordinary.