My wedding anniversary is also on November 7. To be honest, I never thought I would be married. I never had marriage modeled for me as a child. Being a bachelor felt right. I lived in New York City after all. But, as I look back on what led me to "the best thing I got going", I now realize that failed relationships have played a surprising role in the success of my marriage. Failure clearly happened for a reason. Due to these failures, I was able to realize much about myself. I needed someone who would truly communicate with me, because honest dialogue is healthy. I needed someone who valued family. I needed someone who had the chops and desire to potentially be a parent. Failure in past relationships helped to create a foundation for my current successful relationship.
I now have that partner. We butt heads. Let's be clear. But, we do so not in a hurtful way, but to create a clearer dialogue. And to uncover the root of an issue. I couldn't imagine a better partner for me in parenting. I couldn't be happier in general.
I love that my wife pushed me to attend grad school. Because of her, I have a masters degree from an Ivy League institution. Pretty cool.
I love that she has supported me in my desire to stay home with our child. Even cooler!
I love that she asks my opinion about things she doesn't need to.
I love how she laughs. And smiles.
I love how I can make her forget a bad day by kissing her neck.
I love that she loves learning.
I love that she doesn't try to change me and let's me be the geeky fanboy and sports fan I need to be.
I love that my blackness is not a novelty to her and that she respects my need to discuss race.
I love that she challenges me to be healthy.
I love that she doesn't like zombies.
I love that she loves things that I don't love.
I could go on and on.
It's wild to think that I am just as in love now as I was that chilly day five years ago. Here's to another five years, and another, and another, and . . .
