My husband and I’s ten year anniversary is just over the horizon. It seems both unthinkable that we’ve been married so long (and were married so young), but also like life before him is a smaller and smaller blip in my timeline. This summer, it will be eighteen years since we met.
Somedays there are strains of both of us that have been so consistent and true all the way through. Other days, I’m amazed: we are so united that we’ve shaped each other dramatically and continually. I don’t know when the changes happened. They were soft and subtle and subversive, but somewhere along the way, we mirrored each other more and more.
And we’re both better for it.
Unity is an interesting thing. I don’t think it’s natural. Natural, maybe, to flock to the people most similar, but it’s also natural to fly away when differences arise. Uniting is all verb, all work. But when we work, when we show up and let each other influence each other, and let each other be in a constant state of becoming, we all become better. There’s a choice, an invitation to unite.