Six Years Married
A few years ago, I started a tradition where I write one thing I learned about marriage in the past year. You can revisit those posts here:
Today marks six years of marriage. I just went back and read my post from the five-year mark, and WOOF. That girl had no idea what was in store for her. 2022 was by far the hardest year of my life, and while I learned a lot, I don’t know that I really have a sentence or singular lesson I can point to to sum it all up.
The year kicked off with some heartbreaking news. Merely a week later, I lost my job completely unexpectedly. (I tried to put in my notice before we moved, but they asked me to stay on and work remotely and then fired me because I was…working…remotely? I’m lucky to have a wonderful network of friends and colleagues, who were so amazingly supportive through this, but to be honest, job loss felt so small in comparison to everything else I was dealing with.) It seemed like things were turning a corner in December when we found out I was pregnant, but then that was taken from us too, and I spent the week of Christmas having a miscarriage.
Through all of this, Sean was my rock. I literally had nothing left to give to anyone, and that was so hard because Sean was suffering these losses right along side me, and I couldn’t be there for him because I was barely keeping it together myself. After our first year of marriage, I wrote about how well we complement each other and how when one of us is down, the other can pick things up, but I quite literally put everything on Sean in year five. There was no give; only take. And I don’t know how he did it.
2023 is off to a much better start, and so is year six, as we are heading to a cozy weekend getaway in the woods to celebrate our anniversary. So cheers to six years. Here’s to many more.