From the beginning, things have never gone as planned for myself and my husband. Starting way back in 2003 when we met and continuing straight through to now, it has been a rollercoaster of surprises for us. From hardly ever having a date night go as planned to breaking up for seven years to having an apartment yanked from under us, we have lived our lives hoping for the best but expecting the worst. From this, came the Us-iversary.
Held on the available Saturday night surrounding March 10th (which is the half year anniversary of us dating,) we celebrate a special anniversary that encompasses all other anniversaries, accomplishments, and occasionally Valentine’s Day, into one. As expected, nearly every time we try to celebrate on the day of something, it falls though. Job promotion? Weekend with kiddos. Valentine’s Day? Hospital. Wedding anniversary? Overdue bill. And so on, forever. Instead we chose a random weekend in March when we are kid-free and have what is bound to be one of maybe 2 date nights we actually partake in throughout the year. We buy each other gifts and get dressed up. We go out for dinner and drinks. We act like we’ve just started dating again, but it is so much better because I don’t have to wear Spanx under my dress anymore.
This year I awoke to fresh coffee I didn’t have to make myself. We went out shopping, and I got him some new shoes, and he got me a Rae Dunn mug that says “Feminist,” which I love and cannot wait to drink my coffee out of tomorrow. He put on a tie and I put on the dress that has been hanging in my closet for two years just waiting for a reason to be worn. We went to Longhorn Steakhouse for dinner, which, as expected, did not go as planned. After some sort of mix-up regarding our table, we ended up at the bar for an hour. This was fine, as we had each other’s company and some delicious mixture called a Montana Mule to keep us busy. Then, we got our table and ordered dinner. It was great…except for the steak. I don’t know why, but both of us found it to be unchewable. I wasn’t so disappointed, as steak is a rare meal for me that I don’t look forward to with any sort of fervor, but Mark was very much looking forward to this hunk of meat, and thus was sorely disappointed. He sulked for a minute, then leaned across the table and smiled “Well, it wouldn’t be us if it didn’t go wrong somehow.” Afterwards we drove home and just hung out, listening to music and talking about where we’ve been and where we’re going.
Sure, tough steak aside, it was a lovely day, but it has always been in our imperfections that I find the most joy. Nothing ever goes as planned for us, but we always face it together. I’ve spent the last seven years with a flawed man, but one I love nonetheless, because I see the beauty in his design. We live a flawed life, but one that is filled with moments of challenge and surprise. I hope we continue this tradition for many years, because even if we don’t go out and celebrate that often, our life has been a celebration, and that’s even better.
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