12 Lessons I've Learned in 12 Years of Marriage

Nicholas and I celebrated twelve years of marriage yesterday. Every year we write in a vow album. The day of our wedding we wrote our vows in a journal and then every year we write a letter to one another on our anniversary. This year for the first time I went back and read all of Nicholas's letters to me over the past 12 years and started thinking about how far we've come and how much we've learned. 

1. My marriage is my life’s work.

One of my favorite song lyrics comes from Power of Two by the Indigo Girls. "And if we ever leave a legacy It's that we loved each other well” I hope Nicholas and I leave that legacy, not only for our kids but for ourselves. Continuing to build a strong relationship with this man with whom I’ve chosen to share my life is incredibly important to me and I take it very seriously.

2. That being said… my husband cannot meet every emotional need I have.

I owe it to him to take care of myself, to pursue my own interests, and deal with my own issues.

3. Don’t take the beauty of marriage for granted.

4. Spend time together.

When Nicholas and I were still dating, he moved to North Caroline for law school while I stayed in Kentucky and finished college. We vowed then to never go longer than three weeks without seeing each other. I have no doubt that is what made our long distance relationship successful. We still spend quality time together, especially now that caring for three young kids can sometimes feel like we’re ships passing in the night. The importance of time together - face to face - cannot be underestimated.

5. Spend time together ALONE.

I know the traditional advice is to go on a date once a week but SERIOUSLY that is both unrealistic with three kids and expensive. A local church hosts Parents’ Night Out once a month where we can drop all three kiddos off for 5 hours and we always sign up for that. We usually end up going out more than that but having the once-a-month night we’ve committed to doing helps keep one-on-one time on our calendar. 

6. Fight fair.

As newlyweds, Nicholas and I fought… A LOT. We yelled and called names and took cheap shots. It took us a long time to learn how to fight in a way that is fair and constructive. We don’t agree on everything but when we disagree, we try our best not to take it personally or treat each other with contempt.

7. My emotions are relevant but they are not reality.

8. Have sex.

No, seriously. Like my friend Emily says, if you’re not having sex, what’s to distinguish the relationship from any other close friendship or relationship.

9. Don’t try to change the other person.

I won’t lie and say I’ve perfected this one. There are things about Nicholas I would change if I could and, as an eternal optimist, I keep trying. However, the core of who he is I would never change. I fell in love with the way his brain works and it’s still my favorite thing about him 12 years later. 

10. Keep an eye on one another.

This is different than trying to change the person. It’s more about understanding what makes them tick and what makes them stressed. Nicholas and I are both very good at sensing stress in the other person and not taking any snippiness personally. Plus, we usually have a pretty good idea about what the other person might need to relieve that stress and sending them on their way for some self-care. 

11. Know your partner’s world.

Early in our marriage, I read Dr. John Gottman’s fabulous book The Seven Principles for Making Marriage Work: A Practical Guide from the Country's Foremost Relationship Expert . One of the principles that stuck with me was being deeply familiar with your partner’s world. I make it a point to understand Nicholas’s work, what projects might be stressing him out or what’s coming up. The same goes for his interests and hobbies. I’ll never love My Brother, My Brother, and Me as much as him but I do KNOW he loves it.

12. Be vulnerable.

After 12 years of marriage, there is no one I trust more than Nicholas. I tell him my deepest fears and insecurities. I tell him what I don’t tell anyone else. Knowing he sees me at my weakest and loves me anyway – his acceptance in the face of my vulnerability – goes to the very heart of our marriage.

What about you? What are some of the biggest lessons you've learned about marriage?

The Story of Nicholas's Proposal

Moments after Nicholas proposed.

Today is National Proposal Day. Due to the fact that Nicholas and I didn’t start our first blog until 2003, the story of Nicholas proposing to me in 2002 is one of the few facets of our lives together that hasn’t found its way on to the internet.

Well, no day like today!

I thought there is no better time than in the depths of caring for our brand new baby and THIRD child to remember how it all began.

In the summer of 2002, Nicholas and I were living together (in sin, as my grandmother liked to say) in Durham, North Carolina. I had joined Nicholas there after completing my junior year at Transylvania University because I simply didn’t want to be away from him. He was working as a research assistant for one of his professors and living alone in a four bedroom house he and his law school roommates had rented. The rest of his roommates were working in law firms in NY or DC so he had the entire house to himself.

I had planned on getting a job once I arrived in Durham and I tried my hardest but I was late to the game. I applied to every clothing store and restaurant in the Research Triangle but to no avail. Since Nicholas worked from home, we basically spent 24 hours a day 7 days a week. We didn’t have a lot of money. Scratch that. We had no money. We ate a lot of Hamburger Helper. We played so much Phase 10 we invented a new form called EXTREME Phase 10. We watched Crossfire every day at 3pm.

It was one of the happiest times of my life.

I spent a lot of that time planning our wedding. Of course, we weren’t ACTUALLY engaged yet. I had already picked out my ring with the expectation that Nicholas would propose towards the end of the summer. I also had the expectation that the proposal would be fantastic, which looking back was a tall order considering I had completely removed the element of surprise and had pre-selected my ring.

Luckily, Nicholas was up for the challenge.

One morning I awoke to find no sign of Nicholas. Instead, there was a note on his pillow that told me to go to the computer. It took me a moment to realize what was happening as I excitedly ran to the computer and found the note above.

At 10, I received an e-card (remember those!) explaining that he was beginning with an email because that’s how we started flirting with each other two years before at Transy. Instead of conversing face to face on a tiny campus with less than a 1000 students, we wrote long flirty messages to each other in the beginning. We’re weird that way.

The email also sent me to a website with instructions. I was going on a scavenger hunt through all the places and activities that had played an important role in our relationship.

The message than told me my next stop would be the movie theater. Going to the movies was not only one of our favorite date night activities (those were the days!) but three years previous we had randomly gone and seen The Insider together. It wasn’t in any way romantic, especially since I had just been cheated on by my high school sweetheart and was heartbroken. I was telling Nicholas all about it (as I was apt to do to whoever would listen) and he looked at me and said matter of factly, “You know what your problem is? You’re trying to reason with idiots and idiots don’t understand reason.” At first, I was appalled. I wasn’t the one with the problem!

Then, I realized he was right. This was about them not me.

It was also the first time I thought, “Hmmmm… this Nicholas Holland guy might be more than I gave him credit for.”

Fast forward three years and I was rapidly discovering Nicholas was still capable of surprising me. At the theater I had very detailed instructions. I was to go to specific posters out front and write down certain numbers from each time.

The numbers created a call number for a book and PAGE at the Duke Law Library. Plus, they weren't just ANY numbers. The numbers were the date of our wedding and the date of our first kiss. 

I was terrified of misplacing a number but luckily I perform well under pressure. I got to the Law Library, which was the next stop because law school had and was going to play such an important role in both of our lives, and found the book. Stuck in the specific page was a map that led me to a secluded spot in Sarah P. Duke Gardens.

The spot where I sat and waited on Nicholas.

Secluded turned out to be important because the television show Dawson’s Creek was filming on Duke’s campus that day. The episode even featured a guest appearance by Jack Osbourne, one of the stars of our favorite reality show The Osbournes. It was a fun little bonus.

I found my way to the spot and waited expectantly on Nicholas. Finally, he came around a corner and got down on one knee. He told me he loved me more than he had ever loved anyone and asked me to be his wife.

Of course, I said yes.

What I remember so vividly from that moment is how nervous he was. He had been running around all morning putting together this elaborate scavenger hunt. He was sweaty and a little bit flustered. Seeing this man put all this effort into proposing to me  - a man who didn’t particularly enjoy romance or seemingly empty gestures (since we already knew we were getting married) – cemented everything I already felt about marrying him. That he loved me unconditionally, that was going to make the most wonderful husband, and that we were going to be so incredibly happy together.

And I as I lay down next to that man every night, in a home filled with love and laughter and three beautiful boys, I know that the proposal of marriage was fun and unique but the marriage itself is the real story. 

What's the story of your proposal? I'd love to hear!

Choosing to Love

Recently, I was listening to This American Life. For those of you who don’t listen to This American Life (no judgment but what is WRONG with you!??), every week they choose a theme and put together different stories on that theme. This episode’s theme was break ups. The first story revolved around the particular perfection that are breakup songs. It involved Phil Collins and was really everything that is wonderful about the type of storytelling on This American Life.

Specifically, I learned the story behind one of my favorite songs – breakup or otherwise – of all time Bonnie Raitt’s I Can’t Make You Love Me.

Written by Mike Reid and Allen Shamblin, the idea from the song came after Reid read a newspaper story about a man who had shot up his ex-girlfriend’s car. At his sentencing, the judge asked the man if he had learned anything to which the man responded, "I learned, Your Honor, that you can't make a woman love you if she don't.”

Hearing that story with Bonnie Raitt’s mournful voice in the background, I burst into tears.

Now, I haven’t experienced a breakup in almost 15 years. Don’t get me wrong. It was a bad breakup. It involved betrayal on a scale my 19-year-old heart could barely comprehend. I still remember the pain of wanting someone to love you when THEY JUST DON’T.

However, that was not why I was crying.

I was crying because I wake up every morning to a man who does chose to love me. This is a man who is legally obligated to me and my children but whose heart holds no obligation at all. I forget that sometimes. I take it for granted.

As a mother, the love I feel for my children can outshine everything else. It’s so raw and instinctual and powerful, and yet, in a way, a little less special. I don’t choose to love my children. I just do. I have no control over it.

But I choose to love this man and he chooses to love me and when the reality of that hits me sometimes, it feels like the biggest damn miracle I’ve ever witnessed.

When Nicholas and I lost our baby, I expected my girlfriends to provide the most solace. Not because I expected less from Nicholas but because I just thought as mothers they might understand my pain in a way he couldn’t. And they did provide a huge amount of emotional support but over and over again it was Nicholas that kept me moving forward.

It feels unfair. It just so happens that the same 19-year-old heart that had been shattered by betrayal lucked into Nicholas’s possession only a few months later. I knew at that point what love wasn’t but really had no idea what love or marriage or companionship really WAS. I have friends that are still looking. I have friends that trust their hearts to people who chose someone else.

But here I am with a man who does choose to love me.

I know that could change. Life is hard and marriage is harder but for now I’m going to be grateful for my little miracle.

I can’t make him love me, he just does.

Why I went back to a cheater

My first love cheated on me. Repeatedly.

And I went back to him. Repeatedly.

He was my first real boyfriend and had followed me from high school to college. (Mind you, he did not attend the college - just moved to the same town.) I was head over heels in love with him, as only a teenager can be. I truly believed I was going to marry him. Then, I found a love note in his apartment from a sorority sister — not just any sorority sister but a close friend who had taken me under her wing and showered me with affection.

It is a betrayal that still stings eleven years later.

I believed at the time I could end their relationship. I made him call her in front of me and tell her it was over. I checked his email and followed up on every story he told me. He continued to see her and continued to lie. I knew he was lying but I remember vividly calling my mother from his apartment and crying that I just could not make myself leave.

We weren't married and didn't have children. We'd only been together for two years. I can't even begin to imagine the pain of adultery inside marriage. All I remember is the self-doubt and crippling confusion.

If everything I believed about this person I loved and trusted is wrong, how can I ever trust myself about anything—including whether I should stay or whether I should leave?

Eventually, a very wise friend (who I ended up marrying) advised me that I was trying to reason with idiots and idiots don't understand reason. This was not about me. Their betrayal had everything to do with them and their issues and very little to do with me. And I finally realized nothing I could do would end their relationship (they eventually married... and divorced) or save mine.

It was one of the hardest lessons of my life and one I still carry with me. I married a man I truly don't believe would ever cheat on me. HOWEVER, I am not a fool. My husband loves me but he is not perfect, nor is he above basic human psychology. I've seen Love Actually, even the best husbands aren't impervious to a flirty, determined young woman. However, I would not be as kind as Emma Thompson. I wouldn't say I'm zero tolerance but I would add I take the upkeep of my marriage very seriously and the presence of any new women in my husband's life even more seriously. (In other words, stay away from my husband or I will cut you.)

None of us really know a marriage - except our own. And even then, when a lie makes everything you once believed was real suddenly seem fake, you can't really count on anything ... including the belief that Tammy Wynette was full of shit all these years.

This post was originally published on Salt & Nectar.

Amal Clooney and why I changed my name

The hard-charging international barrister Amal Alamuddin recently married a movie star and changed her name to Amal Clooney reigniting the age-old feminist debate over whether or not a woman should change her name upon marriage.

My decision to change my name came down to a simple majority vote conducted among my bridesmaids in the car on the way to my rehearsal dinner.

At the rehearsal, my uncle had asked how he should announce Nicholas and I at the end of the ceremony. I stood there paralyzed before finally admitting I still hadn't decided. Suddenly, my friends and relatives were weighing in from the audience.

“It's such an honor!”

“Do what you want.”

Finally, Nicholas yelled above the crowd, “Just say Nicholas and Sarah.”

The vote wasn't because I didn't take the decision seriously. Quite the opposite. I was a newly minted Women's Studies minor and whether or not to change my name seemed like the most serious decision I would ever make.

In fact, I came very, very close to calling off the engagement altogether after a serious fight with Nicholas over the issue. I had been battling the the pros and cons for months when I approached Nicholas with the perfect solution.

We would create a new name!

After all, it didn't bother me that I was changing my name. A name change seemed appropriately symbolic for this new phase in my life. I was changing everything else – my relationship status, my independence, my living arrangement, my location – so why not change my name as well?

What bothered me was that I was the only one changing my name.

I was taking his name. I was losing my identity as Sarah Lyn Stewart, while he got to maintain his. Where was the fairness in that? We were entering a committed relationship as equals so why was I the only one indicating that change to the outside world by changing my name?

So, here was the perfect solution. We'd create a new name! I even had one picked out. A professor at our liberal arts university had combined his and his wife's last names and I loved the ideas so we could do the same. The “H” from Holland and the “art” from Stewart to form Hart. Plus, how perfect that it sounded like heart!

I made my pitch to Nicholas.

He balked. I was devastated. Hours of fighting came down to one simple point. He wasn't asking me to change my name so he didn't think it was fair for me to ask him to change his.

It was a fair point. If he wasn't asking me to change my name, what was the issue any way?

I had talked about whether or not to change my name with my college mentor and women's studies professor. She hadn't changed her name and never regretted it. She even had an insanely common name that led to all manner of mix-ups and clerical errors. Still, she said she never even considered it.

However, she had also recently had a child when the issue had arisen all over again. In fact, that was one of my main problems with not changing my name. It seemed like you just delayed the debate until you had kids.

I strongly disliked it when women who had kept their last names automatically gave the children the husband's name. Something about that set very, very badly with me. After all, you carried the baby, you birthed the baby, then you had to spend the rest of your life explaining that they were yours without the easy societal indicator of the child's last name. NO. WAY.

My professor had decided to hyphenate her child's name, which seemed on the surface like a great idea for any future children. Of course, the reason I decided against hyphenating myself is because I am WAY too lazy (or efficient?) to spend precious seconds of my life writing out an insanely long last name. It seemed unfair to curse my future children to a fate I didn't want for myself.

Plus, what were they supposed to do when they got married and had children? Keep hyphenating forever. I didn't want to merely gift my indecision to the next generation. Thinking about generations is ultimately how I came to make peace with following the vote of my bridesmaids and changing my name.

Not only of future generations but past generations, which I had recently started thinking a lot about thanks to a new found interest in ancestry. I couldn't even begin to imagine how complicated my research would be if everyone had thrown caution to the wind and started making up the name-changing rules as they went. Sure, the practice of a woman taking her husband's name had some troubling and patriarchal history, but – let's be honest – so did marriage itself and I was still entering into that institution willingly.

After all, I felt confident other women in my family felt sad to leave their last names behind like I did but followed the pull of societal rules just the same – at least I'd be in good company. Truth be told, I have a conservative streak. I believe in the rules of society, and, while I think improvements can always be made, I follow a more pragmatic than revolutionary approach.

In the grand analysis, I decided the pros of changing my name outweighed the cons. I purposefully kept my maiden name and use all three professionally. I also get VERY angry if addressed in person or otherwise as Mrs. Nicholas Holland. The day of our wedding my new husband and I were announced as Sarah and Nicholas.

I've been Sarah Stewart Holland for over a decade now and I've built a new identity surrounding that name of which I am very proud. Not to mention, in one instance, changing my name changed the course of my life. Law school sections at my school are assigned alphabetically. As a Holland, I was in Section 2. Had I remained a Stewart I would have been in Section 4. While I know the people of Section 4 to be perfectly lovely, I cannot possibly imagine my life without the friendships I formed that first hard year with Goo, Harper, Halliday, Holz, and Israel (who have all since changed their names – go figure.)

I tell my story to say a lot of thought (and drama) went into my decision and I'm assuming the same for Amal Clooney. She deserves the benefit of the doubt and not to have her very personal decision turned into a feminist debate.

This decision to change your last name isn't an easy one – no matter how famous that name may be.

Did you change your name? Why or why not?

P.S. Why marriage deserves to be celebrated.

P.P.S. Marriage Isn't For  You: A rebuttal

The Truth That Changed My Marriage

Nicholas and I have been married for eleven years. We work hard. We have two small children. We recently lost a baby. In theory, these should be tough times for our marriage, but they have been just the opposite.

These past two years have been our happiest and most fulfilling as a couple.

My husband is still the man he has always been. He is attentive and caring and intelligent, but he didn’t magically stop doing all the things that annoy me (leaving his shoes around the house, paying too much attention to his iPhone, giggling to his favorite podcasts, this is not a comprehensive list). We still fight and he still hurts my feelings from time to time.

No, Nicholas didn’t change. I did.

It all began when my best friend and I read Grace for the Good Girl by Emily Freeman. The book is built around the author’s Christian journey, but I think it has important truths for anyone no matter their spiritual beliefs.

Emily speaks specifically about the three parts of the soul: our mind, our emotions, our free will and how easy it is to become a slave to the tyranny of emotion.

“There is no alternative to my own point of view. I am held captive by my own thoughts and emotions. I am my only point of reference.”

— Emily Freeman

As I was reading this, I realized this is similar to what I read several years ago in a VERY different spiritual book called A New Earth by Eckhart Tolle. He called the emotions the “ego” so I’m not sure I ever quite made the connection but the point is similar.

My emotions are relevant but they are not reality.

For years, I’d let my emotions rule my marriage. If I felt neglected, it was because I was actually being neglected. If I felt unloved or hurt during a fight, it was because Nicholas didn’t actually love me and wanted to hurt me. It is embarrassing to admit how many times I thought during a normal marital fight, “Well, he doesn’t love me. We should probably get divorced.”

Y’all. Nobody – I mean NOBODY – loves me more than Nicholas Holland. And I suppose on some level I knew this because obviously we aren’t divorced. Outside the highly emotional environment of the fight itself, actual logic would take over.

Still, it was exhausting to ride that emotional roller coaster constantly. Not to mention, poor, poor Nicholas. (Sorry, again, honey!) I can still remember how confused he often looked during our worst arguments as I would cry over how he clearly didn’t love me.

It’s not that my emotions were unimportant. They were relevant then. They are relevant now. If I feel hurt or neglected or even unloved, I need to recognize that and say so. However, I have to constantly remind myself that the reality of the situation is much more complex than how I feel in that moment.

Recently, my therapist drew a Venn diagram explaining the importance of one’s emotional life in relationship to other aspects of our lives.

It looked like this.

See how lovely and balanced that is?

Yeah, mine was more like this.

Truthfully, recognizing that I need to beef up my other circles has not only made me a happier wife, but a happier person. It has also become increasingly essential as I face the very emotional reality of pregnancy after the loss of our baby.

During the tough days surrounding my former due date, I felt a lot of things. Mainly, I felt like our baby was dead.  I had to remind myself that that emotion was relevant. It was relevant because I am still grieving the loss of our little one. It was relevant because I am incredibly anxious about the arrival of our son in February.

However, it was not reality. Our baby is very much alive.

And when I took a deep breath and tried to focus on some of those other aspects of my life I felt so. much. better. I listened to the logic in the voices of my husband and friend and doctor who reminded me my pregnancy and baby were healthy. I focused on my physical self by taking long walks outside. I worked on my spiritual self by meditating and writing.

And guess what? It worked!

Now, real talk. Is my Venn diagram now perfectly balanced? HA! That’s a big old no. More often than not my emotions are still elephant stomping all over my other circles.

However, when that happens, I remind myself that how I feel is relevant. It’s just not reality.

How do you manage your emotions? What realizations have changed the relationships in your life? 

P.S. Why Marriage Deserves To Be Celebrated

P.P.S. Marriage Isn't For You: A Rebuttal

Me and My Decisive Marriage

A couple of weeks ago the New York Times published research regarding marriages that I found very interesting. I'm clearly not the only one because it quickly rose to the top of the Most Emailed Stories list. 

“New research shows that how thoughtfully couples make decisions can have a lasting effect on the quality of their romantic relationships. Couples who are decisive before marriage — intentionally defining their relationships, living together and planning a wedding — appear to have better marriages than couples who simply let inertia carry them through major transitions.”

— the New York Times

Surprising no one, I'm a pretty decisive person. I made the decision pretty soon after I started dating Nicholas that he was the one with which I wanted to spend the rest of my life. Lucky for me, the feeling was mutual and Nicholas is basically a serial monogamist. I decided when I wanted a fraternity lavalier. I decided when I wanted to get married. 

In fact, even the decision to have a big wedding apparently worked in our favor:

“In the study, having a big wedding also was related to a stronger marriage. Not everyone can afford a large wedding, of course, but the finding held even after the researchers controlled for differences in income.

It may be that couples who plan big weddings have more family support and friendships, both of which are good for a marriage. But the discussions and decision-making that go into planning such a large event also may be a sign that the couple has made conscious decisions about the relationship.”

— the New York Times

The article goes on to explain other ways decisiveness in marriage leads to long-term benefits. In a nut shell, it basically confirmed all of my major life decisions!

So, obviously, I'm predisposed to find the findings interesting and applicable but I really want to know what all of you think.

Were you decisive in defining your relationship? Do you think it helped your relationship long term?

A Separation Saves A Marriage

You never know how strong you are until being strong is the only choice you have.”

I found this quote one day while wasting time browsing on Pinterest. I pinned it immediately and thought: “YES!!” I definitely could relate.

Two years ago my husband and I separated. Our marriage had slowly fallen apart and we were nothing more than 2 roommates raising our two girls. We didn’t fight all the time, but we hardly spoke to each other either.

We had our two girls 17 months apart. I think we got so consumed with that, we forgot to communicate. We became parents and forgot what brought us together in the first place.

Over time, we talked less. I resented him for the lack of help me gave me around the house and with the girls. He resented me for the little time I wanted to spend as a family. Instead of talking about it, we each just let it brew internally until one day I woke up and realized I could not live like that for the rest of my life. The thought made me so sad.

I finally gathered up the courage to ask for a separation. It was shortly after Christmas and I was just tired of feeling so lonely. The final straw was him buying a new truck against my wishes. I finally spoke what I had been feeling - that I wasn’t happy at all and I wanted to move out. I was so unhappy at this point that I had no desire to even try counseling or try to work it out.

Telling the girls was horrible. They were almost 6 and 4. I sat down and told them that Mommy and Daddy were going to take a break but we loved them very very much. Looking back, it’s sort of a blur because it was one of the hardest things I ever had to do.

I remember the day I moved out like it was yesterday - packing up my things while my oldest was crying. It was the hardest thing I ever did, but I knew I had to. I was slowly dying inside and knew that if I wanted to be a good example to my kids, I had to find myself again.

As relieved as I was to pull away from the house that night, things didn’t really get any easier. My husband was hurt and angry. He knew we were unhappy, but he had no idea just how much. When he is hurt or angered, he can be a bitter, vindictive man. He doesn’t think and just spews hurtful venom, trying to inflict pain. He pulled out all the stops when we were separated to hurt me whenever he could. Things got ugly. And messy.

Looking back on things, I think that this is when I realized what strength really is. I had to be strong to keep functioning at work. Most importantly, I had to be strong for my two little girls that needed me. They needed to be reminded all the time that they were loved so much. I wanted them to know that no matter what, everything would be ok.

Sometimes it didn’t seem like it, but I truly believed deep down it would be alright eventually. I was living with my mom during this and she was a great source of comfort at my low points. When I finally told my co-workers what was going on, they were also great, even buying me flowers to cheer me up.

Convincing the girls it would be ok wasn’t always the easiest, especially for my oldest. She is pretty sensitive and this all hurt her deeper than I realized. I tried to get them excited about little things sometimes like moving into an apartment but most of all, I just made sure that they felt loved.

I had my bad days and things weren’t always easy – especially when I didn’t have my girls. There were days I would come home from work and curl up on the bed, sobbing. I went through more boxes of tissues than I care to admit. I had more than a few sleepless nights. Sometimes I wasn’t sure I would make it and wondered if it would ever get better.

And it did get better.

We started communicating better for the sake of our girls. Our family was important to us and we wanted to save it. We even started going to counseling together and I went separately. We started working on the issues that made our marriage fall apart, such as lack of communication. I confronted my depression head on. I suffered depression on and off since the birth of my second daughter. It made me withdraw and not really want to do anything. I couldn’t take care of my marriage if I couldn’t take care of myself.

I never intended the counseling to save our marriage. I went so that we could be better co-parents. As we began talking more for the first time in the past four years of our marriage, I had hope we could work things out.

I remember the turning point very vividly. One day the counselor asked me if I wanted to save our family. I broke down in tears and realized that I wanted to try. We started spending time together, alone and with the girls. We would go to lunch, date nights, family trips out. I started to spend a few weekends back at the house to try it out. After doing this for a few months, I officially moved back in.

It would have been easy for us to just let our lawyers fight things out. To get divorced and become another statistic. I think it took incredible strength on both of our parts to admit our faults and open up to each other.

I hope that we set a good example for our two girls to never give up. I hope that we showed them not to settle. I hope we showed them how important it is to communicate. Most of all, I hope we taught them to be strong.

Things are good now, maybe better than they ever have been. While this was a hard time for our family, I don’t really regret it. I think it was a necessary stop on our journey through this life together and made us stronger than ever.

Laura is mom that loves to write, read, and have her morning coffee. She keeps busy with her husband, her two daughters, and her two dogs. You will usually find her out geocaching with the family, reading a book, or playing on her iPhone/iPad.  You can read more at Not Just 9 To 5.

This post originally appeared on Salt & Nectar.