23 Things That I've Learned In 23 Years Of Marriage
Including why you should ALWAYS avoid lime green maternity wedding dresses and excessive amounts of M&S triple sandwiches and why a back garden wedding was the BEST ever.
This weekend, it is Joe and I’s wedding anniversary. This year, I have remembered it. There have been years - mostly when the children were small and time consuming - when we have both forgotten, only to be reminded by my sister or my mum calling to congratulate us at dinner time. Much as I do really like being married to Joe, our multiple past failures to mark the 21 July as a hugely auspicious date has never really bothered me. The fact that we are a) still here on this planet and b) still married to each other is celebration enough and I don’t need to do much else aside from feel generally happy about it. Apart from, of course, the fact that any occasion of note is a VERY good reason for a nice present. They say that the best gifts in life are not things, but hand me Liberty bag or a Net A Porter box and I’d beg to differ.
I was five months pregnant with Ella when we got married and had thrown myself into pregnancy with a vengeance, abandoning any semblance of healthy eating and chucking down M&S triple sandwiches and massive flapjacks like a woman starved. As a result, I looked as if I was about to give birth at any given moment. I was only just divorced from my first husband (I know, I know) and was keen to have a super casual wedding, unlike the first which was the whole big white dress, balloons on table, band, buffet and sugared almond favours shebang. It was 2001 and the only place to buy maternity wear was Jo Jo Maman and a couple of crazy expensive small brands aimed towards women who worked in offices and wanted to wear suits all the time (H&M irritatingly launched their first Mama range about two weeks before I gave birth). I googled hard and went to a small boutique in Marlow where I found a lime green maternity shift dress which I teamed with a scarf shawl thing from Accessorise and - inexplicably - some plastic see through shoes. If there was ever a reason to consider vow renewal, my wedding outfit is top of the list.
We got married in Reading Registry Office with only family present (although there were 40 of them, tbf) The reception was back at Judith, my mother in laws house in her back garden; we served a buffet, bought in copious amounts of alcohol and did all the decorations ourselves. Joe’s brother Nic and Barry (Judiths partner) played guitar and sang, and my Dad fell in the pond whilst trying to take the wedding photos. It was the BEST. And is confirmation that you don’t need to spend shitloads of money to have a great wedding. A year later, we had a party to celebrate Ella’s birth with all of our family and friends, the primary reason for doing so being that I could drink more than one glass of wine.
Anyway, 23 years on and we are, astonishingly, still here, albeit with an additional couple of children. I would be lying if I said that every one of those 23 years has been glorious - if anyone HAS had 23 glorious years then I commend them - but I do feel really lucky to be with someone who can still make me laugh every day, who enjoys American property programmes as much as I do and who is always happy to drive as he’s not that bothered about a drink. The perfect match, ha.
So what have I learned since I donned my horrific lime green maternity shift and walked down the registry office aisle with Joe 23 years ago? Here are 23 things (with a big dash of comedic leeway, obvs).
Never send a partner who rarely drinks wine to the supermarket with instructions to buy a nice bottle of wine for dinner unless you want them to return with the cheapest bottle they can find, uttering the words ‘I thought this looked good value’.
Accept that the only person who can make a bed to your specification is yourself. Only allow your partner to make the bed if you are happy to accept a situation involving unplumped pillows, non shaken duvet and an eiderdown that has been thrown as if they were trying to cage a pigeon.
Remember that you will need to give at least five days notice of any DIY task to be undertaken in the home on a daily countdown unless you want to be regaled with ‘I would have been happy to do it if you hadn’t asked me last minute’. Also see: going to the tip.
Encourage mutual pursuits by bribing your partner to come with you to early morning car boot sales with the promise of the bacon and sausage sandwich van.
Try to view your partners OCD tendencies with affection, even when they insist that you arrive five hours early for a holiday flight and the check in desks aren’t even open.
When going on holiday, always oversee the booking procedure, even if your partner says he’s got it ‘all in hand’. This will save you from a) having a flight to Ibiza scheduled during your daughters GCSE’s and b) having to pay an amendment fee of £300 as he also booked your friends flights.
Never complain that for ten months of the year, you are unable to make any daytime weekend social arrangements or visit family in the South due to a) the grassroots fixture list or b) the Sheffield Wednesday fixture list. Keep smiling when your partner and children switch over Million Dollar Listing LA in order to watch an out of season friendly on TV.
Always send links for birthday, Christmas and Anniversary gifts at least two weeks in advance of the date, unless you are happy to receive Duncan Bannatyne Body Lotion or a figurine of a hunting fox in a top hat.
If your partner does take the birthday present rule off piste and buys you tickets to see Moulin Rouge for a lovely day out, try not to be gobsmacked when he gets the date wrong and you miss the performance completely.
Remember that it’s perfectly acceptable to buy your partner a coffee table or artwork that YOU have lusted after for their birthday, Christmas or Anniversary if they are unable to come up with any suggestions of their own.
Upon return from a charity shop trawl with a bulging plastic carry all, disregard all commentary including phrases such as ‘WTF is in that bag?’, ‘is that more tat?’ and ‘as if we don’t have enough second hand shite in this house already’.
Schedule retail therapy deliveries carefully to save conversations like ‘why are you buying more shoes when we are trying to economise?’. Ensure partner is out, have delivered to the ‘safe place’ garage or shed or, in worst case scenario, head the Evri man off at the pass and pretend you are taking out the rubbish.
Always take a third off the actual price of an item if asked by your partner how much it cost when you’re supposed to be economising.
Be patient with your partners love of all things tech, whether it involves huge TV’s, Ring doorbells, multiple fitness monitors in all shapes and sizes and an insistence that the entire house needs to be cable WiFi wired to ensure four bar at all times. And when - despite allegedly being technically minded - he accidentally deletes six years worth of family photos from the iCloud, do your very best not to bring it up EVERY SINGLE TIME you have an argument.
Every now and then when they’re not expecting it, ask your partner what you’ve written about on your Substack this week or, if you’re really feeling perky, ask them to tell you the name of the book that you published three years ago.
But also know that your partner will always be your biggest cheerleader and have your back in any given circumstance, even the time that you made a total twat of yourself by slamming back Prosecco without eating dinner and subsequently falling into a pond before going to A&E with a ruptured artery.
When making interior choices in your home such as wall colour, there is no need to request a second opinion. If questioned, simply reply ‘I style homes for a living; you work in the car industry. Know your limits’.
Do not allow your partner to have a say in seating purchases if you want your house to look cool. Even if it means that they complain about the low level sectional sofa giving them back problems for the next four years.
Remember how much you love them when spotting the discarded contact lenses stuck to the side of the loo and the vanity sink, even when you have to pick them off with your nails.
Always ask your partner if they have remembered their wallet when you get into the car together.
Train yourself not to shout ‘HOW IN THE FUCK SHOULD I KNOW, IT’S YOUR WALLET’ when they ask you where their wallet is as they can’t find it.
Never go to sleep on an argument. Unless they are being REALLY annoying in which case it’s fine to wait to make up until the morning so that you can maximise your Sleep App stats.
Every now and then when they’re not expecting it, ask your partner snap questions such as ‘what dates are the children’s birthdays?’ or ‘when is our anniversary?’ just to keep them on their toes.
And just in case my husband DOES actually read my Substack, Happy Anniversary, Joe. Here’s to the next 23 years.
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Happy Anniversary indeed, we are at 30, one particular favourite to add is “try and look gracious on a Big Birthday when he buys you the same earrings you have worn every day for 2 years saying “I thought they looked familiar…”
Happy Anniversary and congratulations. 💕These are all funny points and I’m sure lots of us have laughed and can relate to quite a few of these. You always make me laugh so thank you again.
49 years for us this year (hoping we will make 50 🙏) so I’m sure I could add a few more points but they probably should be said in private as the language will be blue!! Thanks again Lisa xxx