To My Wife on our Twelfth Anniversary
Twelve years ago, I married the love of my life in an elaborate ceremony in her hometown of Atlanta. With the possible exception of the birth of my two boys, it was the best day of my life.
Getting married was the best decision I ever made. It is also, I fear, the worst decision that my wife ever made. When she signed on to ride the rollercoaster, I’m not sure she realized just how dark the ride would get.
I don’t remember exactly when or where, but I decided to ask my wife to marry me during a 2011 Phish concert I was attending solo as part of the research for my 2013 book You Don’t Know Me But You Don’t Like Me.
It was the rare drug-induced decision that worked out swimmingly. My wife’s high school and college Phish fandom was the inspiration for You Don’t Know Me But You Don’t Like Me. It was a book fueled by my feverish obsession with the woman who would go on to become my wife and the mother of my two children. So there was a beautiful synchronicity in a Phish show being the place where I decided conclusively that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with the woman unfortunate enough to be my muse and life partner.
The last twelve years have not been easy. They have, in fact, been the antithesis of easy. They’ve been exceedingly difficult.
If you care, then parenthood is challenging. The more you care, the more challenging it becomes and my wife could not be more invested in the lives and futures of our boys. The difficulty level increases exponentially when you have a neurodivergent child. It increases further if you have multiple neurodivergent children. If you have multiple neurodivergent children and are either neurodivergent or married to a neurodivergent partner, then holy fucking shit, your life is so difficult that most people can’t comprehend what it’s like.
That’s my wife and myself. By marrying and procreating with me, my wife unwittingly volunteered to go through life with the difficulty level forever set to “Excruciatingly hard.”
But if our lives are full of neurodivergent challenges, it’s also full of autistic joy, thanks largely to you. Our executive functioning isn’t great, but yours is spectacular. You step up in the many areas of life in which I am wildly inadequate.
We created a precociously gifted, eccentric nine-year-old genius and the most adorable five-year-old in the world. Like Champion and myself, they love my wife as much as it is possible to love someone. She is our whole world.
My wife has no idea how beautiful, beloved, and valued she is. If she were to pull a Tom Sawyer and attend her own funeral, she would be shocked and moved to discover how many people’s lives she had touched and how deeply.
I take great pride in being the man behind the woman. I cook, clean, do laundry, and look after Harris, our youngest, so that my wife can continue to excel professionally as a therapist and counselor.
At this late stage in my life, all I can give my wife for our twelfth anniversary are love, devotion, the most intense and lasting form of commitment, and words. I would love to be able to give her more.
My wife has more than lived up to the “for worse” part of the wedding vows. She’s been there for me during every struggle. She has been my rock through the stormy seas and ghost-filled terrain of a difficult life filled with painfully mixed metaphors. She’s made every success more meaningful and every setback more manageable.
I’d love for my wife to experience the “for better” part of marriage as well. Hopefully, by this time next year, my career and finances will be in a much different, better place, and I’ll be able to contribute the way I’d like.
I feel like I owe everything to my wife because, objectively, I do owe everything to my wife. She isn’t just my partner; she’s my everything. She has single-handedly made the world endurable. She could not be more loyal. I hope someday to be able to reward that loyalty.
That’s why I have volunteered to have my wife’s name tattooed on me. It would illustrate that I am in it for the long haul and that my love is permanent and all-consuming.
She’s made this website and my career possible by being the breadwinner in our home. So, if you enjoy this website, you have her to thank. She is its patron saint.
Happy twelfth anniversary to my wife. The words “I love you” seem wildly insufficient, but they’ll have to do because I am a professional writer who does not have the talent or the words to do justice to just how much my wife means to me.
Help Nathan achieve his life’s goal of someday impressing his wife by doing one of more of the following:
Nathan needs teeth that work, and his dental plan doesn't cover them, so he started a GoFundMe at https://www.gofundme.com/f/support-nathans-journey-to-dental-implants. Give if you can!
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