The Best Year of My Life

Ideally I would like to have written and posted this blog on Monday (June 2nd), which was the actual day. But alas, on our one year anniversary I was sipping a frozen concoction called an "Espanto Wave" as I lounged on the stretch of beach at our 1500 square foot villa on a private island off the coast of Belize (it's okay to be a little jealous!) and was nowhere near my laptop. So sometime relatively soon I'll post about our absurdly romantic trip, but when it really comes down to it, the first week of June this year was special not because we were taking a belated honeymoon to an incredible resort, but because it marked the end of one of the best years of my life. So before I get around to posting pics from the trip, I wanted to first have a little cyber celebration of our one year anniversary.

I'm a little in shock at how ridiculously fast the past year has gone by. It seems like just last week that we were standing on the edge of a cliff in Jamaica, reading our hand-written vows, and hoping the rain would hold off just a few more minutes. With 60 friends and family behind us and an inky pink sunset that looked like a watercolor painting, it was everything I'd dreamed of, and everything I'd spent the past 14 months planning for. It was, without doubt, the happiest day of my life. And I was so petrified to see it come to an end, because I knew the challenges that waited for us when we returned to the States would completely shake up the happy little existence we'd created.

Fast forwarding a year, I really don't know what I expected a one year anniversary to feel like. I mean sure, I've celebrated one year dating anniversaries with many a boyfriend (I am sort of a serial monogamist and had three 4+ year relationships prior to getting married). But this whole wedding anniversary concept had me stumped. Instead of feeling like a milestone, it seemed more like the end of something that I wasn't ready to let go of. I felt myself wondering whether I'd miss being called a "newlywed" and whether the heady romance of it all would start to slip away.

But then I climbed out of my own personal Danielle Steele novel and remembered that the past year hadn't been that stereotypical romantic fairytale at all. Instead of spending our first year of marriage nesting and magically reverting to the cooing, googly-eyed college kids we'd been when we first started dating, we spent it creating an entirely new life for ourselves and (aside from having a kid, which thankfully hasn't happened just yet) surviving just about every life-changing event one can imagine. Any married person would likely agree that saying "I do" changes you a little and forces you to reinvent yourself as an "us" instead of a "me." But we took that reinvention to the extreme.

The day we got back from our wedding, I quit my much loved job. The following day I flew to California to interview for a new one. Two weeks later we celebrated our big day with 250 of our nearest and dearest, and two weeks after that we left Missouri for good. We signed a lease on an apartment sight-unseen, gave away our dog, packed up what we could (and donated what we couldn't) and left everything we'd been before our marriage behind us. In the eleven months that followed, I took the hardest bar exam in the country. Twice. Jack finished his PhD and started a prestigious new job, and then found himself lining up interviews as he made plans to move on. We spent three nights in a crappy hotel when wildfires threatened to consume our apartment. We traveled back to St. Louis a lot, but also to San Francisco, Big Bear (twice), Miami and the Bahamas, Napa Valley, Phoenix, Las Vegas, and Belize. We became landlords, and at times we felt like we were running a B&B out of our apartment. Somewhere in there we managed to furnish our new place from scratch, made some new friends, survived a few earthquakes, and even started training for a half marathon. Looking back on it all, I'm not surprised that we didn't do much nesting or cooing. Who has time for that crap when you're doing all this?

So the past year wasn't exactly moonlit strolls on the beach or not being able to keep our hands off each other. But I wouldn't have had it any other way.

Jack's wise Aunt Joan told me a few months before we left St. Louis that moving away together right after the wedding would be one of the best things we could do for our marriage because it would set a precedent for our new life together, and would teach us to rely on each other and allow us to grow as a couple. She couldn't have been more right.

There is no one else in the world for whom I would have dropped everything to move to California. No one else with whom I would have felt more safe as we watched 24 hour news coverage of the uncontrollable wildfires threatening our home. No one else whose hand I would have rather held as we fastened our seat belts and prepared for takeoff 34 times over the past year. No one else whose arms I would have wanted to fall into when I learned that I had overcome my biggest failure and passed the California bar.

Through all this we managed to fight very little, laugh very much, and roll with the neverending punches. Part of me will always miss being a bride, especially as I look back on our gorgeous wedding day. But having survived a first year like this, I can't say that I'll miss being a "newlywed." Right now, I'm just honored to be Jack's wife.

Happy (belated) one year anniversary, honey!