We met in high school, just two young, scrappy teens, with no direction. No plan. We were headed to McDonald’s for chicken nuggets and fries on a Friday night…. wasting time in a very small, cottage town.
There wasn’t a lot for teens to do where we lived. We didn’t have a movie theater, or skating rink, or a mall. So, we’d talk for hours under the moonlight, sitting on the hood of his hatchback. Dreaming of where life would take us.
We soon found ourselves pregnant and confused…over the years, some have questioned how young we were…The truth is, we started our family before either of us graduated high school.
The road we were on was difficult and stressful. It was just too much for these two kids to navigate. By the time our son’s first birthday rolled around, we were learning to co-parent, albeit not well in the beginning.
In three more years, we had the co-parenting thing down. We were very comfortable with the situation and with each other.
Like a gravitational pull, our souls kept drawing us to each other and we’d find ourselves (unsuccessfully) trying to push the other away again. Surprisingly, we somehow became best friends along the way.
After many late night conversations, we agreed to what we deemed as “our last chance”. With lots of heartache in our rearview, it didn’t make much sense to anyone around us.
Our friends and family warned against it. But we leaned in.
We lived in two different states. He packed up and headed my way (800 miles). I told him he could stay two weeks in my apartment until he found his own place. We would then “date” to see how it went.
He never moved out.
People said two teens couldn’t really know what love is.
People said this was “puppy love”.
People said we had to give up our dreams if we wanted to keep our baby.
People said we should consider other options.
People said I was trash.
People said I’d never be able to finish high school.
People said I was ruining my life.
People said I was ruining his life.
People (A history teacher) said teenage moms can’t love their babies.
People said we’d end up divorced in five years.
Or with 15 children, broke and desolate.
People said we’d never make it.
People said we’d never be able to go to college.
People said we’d never have decent jobs.
People said we’d never amount to much.
People said there is no way we’d find lasting, long-term happiness.
People said ….
And we refused to listen.
This year we celebrate 25 years of marriage.
Deeply connected. We developed our own communication style through lots of therapy – together and alone. We know that the secret is to never stop growing, together. Our hands and hearts are intertwined in love, in sickness, in health, in poverty, and in wealth. God-loving, college-educated, multiple home-owning, empty nesters of two healthy, well-rounded, fantastic young men. Grandparents to two adorable, spunky, set the world on fire, littles. Travelers, adventure-seeking, joy finders, soul mates with a desire to see as much as we can, dream as big as we can, and live our lives out loud.
It doesn’t have to make sense to anyone.
Forge your own path. Your life is the only one you’ve been gifted. The only one you’ll get.
Live without regrets.
We have crafted a damn good life. It’s one that I’m proud of.
25 years down, 100 to go.
“Two roads diverged in a yellow wood and sorry I could not travel both….I took the one less traveled and it has made all the difference.” – Robert Frost
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