Today’s my 27th wedding anniversary. Twenty-seven years of wedded bliss. With some not-so-blissful moments sprinkled into the mix to make it interesting. What’s our secret?

How the heck do I know?

I think a lot of it is just good old fashioned stubbornness. We’re both too obstinate to give up. And when we’re mad at each other, there’s no way either of us would let the other go to be happy somewhere else! Oh, no. If I’m miserable, you better believe he’s going to be miserable right along with me. And vice versa. That’s what makes a good, strong marriage: two stubborn people.

We fight. Good and loud. We laugh. Long and loud. We’re obnoxious, sarcastic, and totally perfect for each other. No one else would have us. 

But there’s more to it than that. We’re best friends. We’re confidants. We’re parents. We’re that middle-aged couple you see holding hands in the mall. We’ve shared great joy and devastating loss. 

He’s every hero I write, every smile I wear, and every beat of my heart.

Happy anniversary, Filippo. Thanks for loving me almost as much as I love you.

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