A Year Of Marriage

But also, 20 years? Or two months?

One year ago today I cried my eyes out in front of 200 or so of our closest friends and family as I said “I do” to the love of my life. How is that possible? How is it a year already when it was basically also like yesterday? But also how is it a year when we’ve obviously been married our entire lives?

In the months leading up to the wedding, I had alternated between nervousness, denial that I was going to walk down the aisle again and legally tie myself to another person, and the complete calm of the knowledge that we were already basically married already and had been for years. In the days before the wedding I was in work mode. I had to make sure that all the finishing touches were in place. We had to make sure that family made it into town safe, that the food showed up, that the sound equipment worked. I would become excited when I walked down the aisle. This is very typical for me. I regularly refuse to enjoy an upcoming event until I’m positive that nothing will happen at the last minute to fuck it up. This is pretty common with people with ADHD, because the thing that will usually fuck it up is, well, us.

So of course as I was driving with my sister (about 30 minutes late already) to the venue to get dressed for the ceremony, I got a phone call from my soon-to-be spouse asking if we’d seen his car key…or his backup car key. And we had seen them. The car key was in my purse right next to me, and the backup key was in my sister’s purse sitting in her lap (she also has ADHD). Once everyone figured out alternate transportation for Gabriel to get to the wedding, my sister (who even at 30 cannot paint her nails without getting polish all the way up to her first knuckle) decided to give herself a manicure in the car as I was driving - complete with cuticle trim. So I’m stuck in traffic and becoming even more late, berating myself for not leaving on time and not returning Gabriel’s keys. Tears are in my eyes as my sister quietly says, “oh no” and I look over at her and her hands are just freely bleeding everywhere from where she apparently tried to cut her fingers off with the cuticle nippers.

Anyways, we made it to the wedding. So did Gabriel. I rushed through my makeup and was thoroughly unhappy with how it turned out, as my mom and my grandma and my business manager worked to quickly steam the wrinkles out of my dress. But I got dressed, my kids got their suits on, and Gabriel got to the alter looking absolutely gorgeous.

And as I looked at him, standing in a field waiting for me surrounded by so many of our loved ones, it was like every single bit of love I’d experienced for Gabriel in the previous four years - every heart palpitation when he kissed me on the cheek, every bit of fullness when he told me a horrible dad joke just to watch me roll my eyes and smile, every bit of comfort and safety I felt every night as he would say “excuse me…excuse me…” as he wiggled his arm under my pillow to get into the perfect cuddle position - poured into me all at once and spilled over out of my eyes and down my cheeks, ruining my already subpar makeup

.

The day after the wedding we woke up and everything was different and also nothing was. We had made it legal. We tied our lives together in a new way. And yet, nothing was ever going to tie us together in a stronger way than the way in which we had laughed together every day, the way in which we had held each other through some of the most difficult days in our lives. I was more surprised to call myself a married woman, than to find myself married to Gabriel. Because of course I would be married to Gabriel, but also me? Married??

Our first year of marriage has been what we’ve always known together and also surprising every day. We’ve been growing and changing in different ways. We’ve both started therapy and are discovering new ways to heal and care for ourselves. I finished a book, Gabriel decided to embark upon a new career. We’ve become even better at proactively addressing issues before they become a conflict. I’m learning how to just say “I’m annoyed,” when I’m annoyed and Gabriel is learning that if I don’t say “I’m annoyed at you,” then it’s okay to just let me be annoyed. We’re better at not mothering each other so much, while also being patient with each other when that level of care is just something we really need to give at the moment. Gabriel has learned that most of the time when I look upset or stressed, I’m usually just floating around in my ADHD - he now asks “are you in the soup?” and I will say “yes,” and he knows to just let me wade around in my brain for a while.

We have still laughed every single day, even on the really hard days. He’s still the first person I want to tell anything to. Every day still feels like the best sleepover with my best friend.

I’m so grateful for this year. I’m so grateful for every day. I’m so excited for the years ahead of us, and I know that no matter how long we are blessed to exist on this planet together, every single moment of it will be the gift of a lifetime.