The first time I shared our story was way back in 2014. I’m not sure anybody was even reading then and I left out a few of my favorite parts. I stumbled across these old posts when I was updating the blog last year and I knew immediately that I wanted to share them again. Since we’re approaching Valentine’s Day (how cliche), I figured now was the perfect time. I’ve updated the story and added some of my favorite photographs and will be sharing a post every week until we’re all caught up. The first time I shared these posts, I stopped with the wedding, but we’ve been married fifteen years now and our story isn’t over yet.
I know I’ve shared bits and pieces of how I wound up married to my husband, but I don’t think I’ve ever told you how it all began. We were laying in bed one night recently when I mentioned that we’ve finally been together much longer than we weren’t — 17 years vs. 20. It’s weird to even say that.
A cute picture of me, because: why not? | Also, already repping a Gulf Shores tee!
It was only after we were older that we realized we were in an elementary school class together. My second grade year and his third grade year, we had a split class. Even funnier is that our best friend’s mom was our teacher that year. I was seventeen when we first met and this month marks twenty years that he’s been my best friend. Wait, what?! I try not to be the needy girl who makes googly eyes at her boyfriend across the room, but I still can’t help it. He’s my person.
Can we talk about that mullet? And all the trophies?!
Our story is long and involved, as any story twenty years in the making tends to be. We grew up in a small town and went to an even smaller school. It was almost impossible not to know the name and life history of every person in your class. Despite the fact that only one grade separated us in school, I don’t remember knowing much about him before the fall of 1996.
What a stud!
I was a bit of a free spirit in my youth. My hair was parted down the middle and I bought Doc Martens on the day after Thanksgiving of my freshman year. Nobody else in my class dressed like I did and I’m pretty sure they had no idea who the Lemonheads even were. I never really had a boyfriend in middle school and I wasn’t boy crazy. The summer before high school a boy caught my eye. He was a friend of my cousin, went to a different school, and was in the youth group at my church. He asked me out on a date on the church bus after midnight bowling. I was wearing white jeans (with a nacho cheese stain on the left leg) and a striped top I bought in London earlier that summer. He was a senior and, at fourteen, I was about to start my freshman year of high school.
My freshman yearbook photo, wearing the striped top from London.
Fast forward a few years and we were still dating the fall of my junior year. Presidential campaigns were in full swing and I was still wearing combat boots (it’s possible they are in my closet right this very minute). Bill Clinton was speaking at a local university and our junior and senior classes went on a field trip as a government assignment. It should come as no surprise that I remember exactly what I was wearing that day, too. After the campaign stop, we ate lunch at a local mall and I remember Chris coming up to me during our meal. He told me that his best friend was in love with me and I had to ask who that even was. I think I laughed at him and reminded him that I was two years into a very serious relationship. One that would end a short month later.
See? Quarterback.
I never cared much for organized sports or school functions. I hadn’t been to a school sponsored dance since the eighth grade and I couldn’t have named the quarterback (Josh) to save my life. After taking a practice ACT test on our computer at home, I found myself at a high school basketball game for the first time in my life. I remember my friend pointing Josh’s mom out to me in the crowd and we somehow found ourselves behind the wheel of his car right after halftime (procuring snacks for the team if I recall correctly). We didn’t speak to each other at the game, but he and Chris called me on the phone that night for the first time (remember three-way calling?!). I was standing in the living room and my mom was sitting in my dad’s chair. I remember pointing to the phone and mouthing his name to her with a smile on my face. That phone call changed the course of my life forever.
This is so much fun and I can’t wait to share more. Next time we might actually speak face to face.
