About six weeks after my wedding, I had a moment of jarring clarity.  It hit me that things were good, and I was in a safe place.  The start of my marriage was full of kindness, respect, patience, and fun.  It was easy.  This could be a point of a different realization: “This is not what I expected.  He’s mean.  He’s difficult.  I don’t feel good.  I want out.”  I thought of all the stories of people who married someone they thought they knew only to realize a short time later that they were with someone completely different.  Like the official act of marriage made them reveal their true, unguarded self. 

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That moment, in August of 2006, I knew that that wouldn’t be my story.  My one day of panic right after the wedding was just a result of emotional overload.  I took a deep breath and as I exhaled, I released all the tension and worry I was holding on to.  I felt at home and excited for the future. 

We have been married for thirteen years.  Maybe only those married for more than fifty years should write about marriage, but I know that if I’m lucky enough to live into my seventies and still be married, I’ll forget what it felt like to be married for thirteen years.  But I don’t want to forget.