A Decade Together

Tonight, our home will be quiet. Unusually, beautifully, and terrifyingly quiet. For the first time in months, we are dropping our toddler off at grandma’s house for a full weekend away. As I pack the tiny diaper bag, double-check the favorite stuffed animals and snackies, and run through a mental list of a hundred different routine instructions, that familiar, heavy blanket of mom guilt is already creeping its way in. It’s a bittersweet ache, when you realize you’re choosing to step away from your baby, even if just for a few days.  

But right alongside that heavy ache is another feeling entirely. It’s a spark of pure excitement. We are packing our bags and heading out of town for a wedding, and the thrill of knowing that I get to spend an entire weekend celebrating, traveling, and just being with my husband makes me feel like I have absolutely won at life. The fact that I still feel this genuinely giddy about him, a whole decade into our story, is everything.  

Ten years. A decade. When you look at it on paper, it sounds massive. When you look back at who we were when we first started out, it feels like an entirely different lifetime. We were younger, sure, but more than that, we were unshaped by the deeper trials of life. Over the last ten years, we didn’t just grow older. We grew up. And more importantly, we grew together.  

It’s easy to grow apart when life gets fast and complicated. Careers shift, priorities evolve, and suddenly you are staring down the beautiful, exhausting tornado of parenthood. Becoming parents changes a marriage. You go from being the center of each other’s universe to co-captains of a tiny, chaotic ship. Your conversations naturally drift to grocery lists, nap schedules, and who handled the last meltdown.  

Yet, somewhere beneath the rhythm of toddler chaos, the two of us survived. We didn't just survive, we bloomed. The love we have now doesn't look exactly like the love we had ten years ago. It’s better. It is grounded. It has scars, it has triumphs, and it has a depth that only comes from choosing each other every single day. 

When we meet grandma this weekend and leave our little one behind, my heart will leave a piece of itself behind, too. The mom guilt is real. It’s hard to turn off. But I am also realizing how vital it is to nurture the soil where everything began. Before we were a mom and a dad, we were just two people who fell completely in love. Our marriage is the foundation upon which our child’s world is built. Taking the time to step back into our original roles isn’t a betrayal of parenthood. It’s a celebration of the partnership that made our family possible in the first place.  

They say that after a decade, the honeymoon phase is a distant memory, replaced entirely by routine and predictability. And while we certainly have our routines, looking at my husband today and feeling the exact same butterflies I felt all those years ago feels like defying the odds.  As we get ready to dress up, toast to another couple's new beginning, and step out onto the dance floor this weekend, I am reminded of the greatest comfort of my life: knowing that he is my dance partner forever. Through every unexpected shift in the music, there is no one else I’d rather step in time with.

I still want to laugh with him. I still want to hold his hand in the car. I still can't wait to just sit across a quiet table from him and talk until the night ends. After ten years, he is still my favorite destination.