I never, ever wanted to get married. Perhaps it was some die hard feminism thing or my desire to hold onto my personal freedom, but marriage was out of the question for me. No way was I relinquishing my maiden name, and no way was I going to be tied down in such a permanent way. This was of course a paradox, as I'd always had a huge romantic heart, and really wanted a life partner. By the time I was 30, I'd given up - the long term relationship that had peppered my late teens and twenties was in it's absolute dying throes, and all the lovers in between just didn't cut the mustard for me. And I was okay with that.
And then I met The One.
Most times I have to repeat the facts to people as they don't quite believe the circumstances which brought us together. Yes, it was love at first sight. Yes, we slept together on the first night. Yes, we decided to get married within three days (we should get married and move to the countryside, he said, over a whiskey mac in a pub by a fire after an icy walk through a wood in England). Yes, I moved from Australia to England to be with him. No, he hadn't met my 5 year old son yet. Yes, he knew said son existed. Yes, he lived in a truck with 90 pounds to his name. Yes, we got married within the year. Yes, we are still ridiculously, hopelessly, wonderfully in love. Yes, he IS still the one, from the moment I saw him.
Reading @sagescrub's beautiful post here inspired me to write my own response to the 'Love It Up' Natural Medicine challenge. I'm past the due date, but since I'm judging and writing the wrap up, I'm pretty sure I can bend the rules (and I'm not really in the running!). If you want to get in your entries last minute, please do - I don't have time to put the wrap up post together til Sunday.
And it got me thinking - again - how the hell did this happen? How did we know it was going to work, even when others were doubtful, thinking we were impulsive and that it was going to fail like our other relationships failed? How is it that after 16 years together, we're so solid?
Partly it's pheromones - no way am I leaving a guy that smells like fennel seeds. I still find him sexy as hell.
Partly, we're both so loving at heart, so we fulfil that need in each other to be touched, and to be worshipped. When we met, and I'm not even joking, the first kiss SPARKED. Like seriously fizzly electricity. That shit is real. Who woulda thunk it!
Partly, we've both got this ability to giggle together, to find the same things funny. I still remember the first time we laughed together - I think it was on Day 2. We were walking through a cow field, and there were these horned cows that I'd never seen before, and I was slightly nervous of them. So this man that had known me for a whole 48 hours shouts 'Run' and I jump and start running. And he's killing himself laughing watching me. I guess I had two choices - get really mad or laugh too. Whilst he's not really one for practical jokes, he always makes me laugh a lot. We are still laughing together. If you don't have a sense of humour, I don't think you can survive a relationship at all.
All that aside, unless you're willing to compromise, sacrifice and forgive, none of the above matters. I think that's why people might shy away from marriage. It's hard work.
When I asked J. why he thinks we're still together, he joked: 'Because I don't have a choice?'. This is of course total bullshit. When we decided to get married, we stood on top of Clifton Suspension bridge in Bristol and totally freaked out. There's nothing as symbolic as a really high bridge to mark the start of a marriage. We were about to dive into some pretty deep water, as well as build something like a bridge between two very separate souls. Was this really what we wanted to do? We'd seen the ring and were about to buy it (not a lot of money - it was a symbol) but thought maybe a bit of discussion wouldn't go astray. We vowed then that if either of us wasn't happy, we'd walk away.
@sagescrub and @idyllwild wrote that:
'For our love to grow, we also had to learn to grow together, rather than apart'.
That really resonates with me. I think people are too quick to say: 'This isn't working' because they feel some part of themselves is changing or being compromised. If you're in a relationship, that's bound to happen - and it's a good thing! Change is natural, and important. We felt we really had to figure out a game plan for how we were going to grow together. Of course, fennel seeds and humour helped, but we needed bigger things than that. Luckily we both wanted each other so much, that the plan evolved really well.

Making Our Story About Mutual Support
No matter the shit life might have thrown at us, turned out we were the ones that were going to support each other through it. We just made a decision to make that our story - whatever happened, we'd help each other. So if one of us is struggling, the other one steps up. If he's having a tough week, I'll do little things to make it easier for him - make him nice dinners, let him off the dishes, take the bins out. And vice verse - when Dad was ill, J. couldn't do enough for me.
We just believe we have to put each other first. Of course, it has to be mutual, and of course, we have to look after ourselves, but by looking after each other, we DO look after our own hearts. It doesn't feel like sacrifice. It just feels like partnership.
Marriagephobes have got it wrong. Sacrifice is looking after yourself. Nothing of you is compromised, just enhanced. We're here to look after each other. It's as human as anything to do so.

Saying Yes
We're both air signs, so we're both changeable and adaptable. I'm not sure if there's any truth in astrology, but I like the story behind this. I'm not sure we'd have survived if one of us was overly stubborn. We're lucky we like the same things, but there's other things we're not interested in either - mechanics, for example! Honestly, if I have to hear about that gearbox one more time! But I say YES to his projects, because he's excited and passionate about it, and to prevent him dreaming or doing would be to tether him in a way I'd never want to be tethered myself.
And he's always supportive of my dreams. Anything I want to do, he says 'yes' to, even if it's not his thing.
And saying 'yes' takes us on cool adventures too. 'Wanna move to Australia?' - yes. 'Wanna drop all this and go down the coast?' - yes. 'Wanna drive the Landie to England overland?' - yes. 'Wanna ...' - yes. If you're saying 'no' to all your partners dreams, you're in the wrong relationship.

Letting Go
We came together with a history we had to let go if we wanted to last. There was no room in this house of love for old stories. We were building something new, so we laid all the old stuff out in the junkyard of our souls and examined each bit before we let it go. There was no room for judgement or reprisals - what was done was done. Just because an ex had whacked him on the head with a cast iron frying pan didn't mean I was going to. And just because I was never sure that my last love was totally committed, didn't mean he wasn't. We just had to make a decision about who WE were, TOGETHER, and believe in that with all our hearts.
Letting go must also happen on a daily basis. J. taught me really early on that silent treatments are ridiculous, and that you should never go to bed on an argument. Sure, we have a couple of times but we always wake up in love again. There's no point in holding onto small resentments as they are tiny in the grand scheme of life and love. So what we had a blue because we'd both had a stressed out week? So what that he left the wrapper of the cheese again? So what that I was grumpy and snappy? There's nothing a hug and a 'I'm sorry' won't fix. That's just all noise. And once you practice letting go, it gets easier.
Making Time for Each Other
We have these little things we call 'molidays' which is a portmanteau for 'mini holiday'. Life can get so hectic and pull us in opposite directions. Recognising that, one of us will pull the other into a moliday. A picnic in the woods. A walk on the beach and lunch out. A few hours, away from everything, with just us, and only us. No noise. And in that space we talk, and listen, and hopefully laugh, and dedicate and devote to each other wholly. We don't want the world to intrude on the solidity of our relationship - the centre must remain healthy and whole for all the other spinning shit to not unravel it.
And then there reaches this really magical point in a marriage where you have all these strategies that just become unconcious and as natural as breathing. Compromise becomes a go to, and doesn't hurt at all. Letting go is like breathing. Saying sorry and forgiving is natural and comfortable and true. And you know, without a doubt, they've got your back, always.
This isn't intended as an advice column - it's just what worked for us. We are each other's natural medicine - we help heal each other daily, and nurture and support each other. He most definitely is my valentine.