Today marks my 20th wedding anniversary, a milestone that fills me with profound gratitude and joy. These two decades spent with the best person in the world have been filled with love, laughter, and a fair share of challenges. Marriage, like any relationship, is not a passive journey — it requires constant effort, time, and a balanced give and take.
In the space of 20 years we have lived in two countries, worked for nearly a dozen employers between us and lived in too many houses to even count. Thankfully buying our own 10 years ago. Over the years, we’ve raised three wonderful children who, in their unique ways, embody bits and pieces of both my wife and I.
Watching them grow has been one of the many joys of our marriage, a testament to the life we’ve built together. Am I still in love? Oh my goodness, yes I am. How do I know I still love my wife after all these years? It’s simple.
My job is both stressful and rewarding, bringing moments of elation and times of frustration. Whether my day is great or challenging, I always look forward to coming home to her. On a good day, I can’t wait to share the funny stories, the successes, and the small victories with her over a cup of coffee.
On a bad day, her presence is my solace. Just being with her, talking, and unwinding helps me navigate through the toughest times. Her presence has a calming effect that I cherish deeply.
Over the years, our dreams and priorities have evolved. What once seemed crucial in our younger years may not hold the same significance now. We have grown and adapted, shifting our focus from individual ambitions to shared goals and family-oriented dreams.
Yet, through all these changes, the desire to experience life together remains steadfast. Whether it’s pursuing new hobbies, traveling, or simply spending quiet evenings at home, the joy of sharing these moments with each other has never waned. I once asked her what she thinks is the key to a lasting marriage.
Her response was both simple and profound: “It’s when I’m sat in front of the roaring fire in one room and you’re sat in front of the air con in another ...
but we’re both perfectly happy with it.” To me, this means that while we sometimes do our own things, we are comfortable and happy in our individual spaces. We don’t always have to do everything together, but we know we are secure and content in our companionship.
A marriage doesn’t thrive on one person always getting their way. It thrives on compromise. Do we like everything we do or everything that happens? No.
But we do it anyway because we know it’s important to each other. This mutual understanding and willingness to meet each other halfway is what has kept our bond strong. For us, the secret ingredient has been the consistent effort to make each other happy, the patience to understand and accept our differences, and the shared moments of joy and sorrow.
I think she might read this, I know her workmates will, I hope she is not embarrassed. But above everything I hope she knows how much I love her and just how much she means to me. I hope she knows all this because I loved her the first day I saw her, on that beach front all those decades ago, I loved her at that moment and I have loved her every moment afterwards.
I love her kindness, tenacity, resolve, self-sacrifice, humour, beauty, maternal side, athletic ability, humility — everything. For me, it’s clear that through good times and bad, rain or shine, happy or sad, I need her by my side, and I am pretty sure she feels the same way. Here’s to us, and to many more years of a happy, fulfilling marriage.
Derek Goforth is an expat of 13 years and father of three living and working in Geraldton.
