We got married a year ago.

There have been good times, bad times, laughter, tears, great food, busy Mondays, lazy weekends, and so many wonderful memories these past 365 days. We moved, we got a dog, Rob got a promotion, my self-employment continued, and we found ways to love each other a little more every single day.

Life with Rob is so good, and I look forward to a beautiful future, but today we're looking back on what was truly one of the happiest days of our lives (so far).

Details + Getting Ready // First Look // Bridal Party // Ceremony // Reception // Golden Hour Portraits

Happy anniversary, Rob--you are my health, my wealth, my happiness.

Last night, after a challenging afternoon with our puppy that ended in me absolutely needing ice cream, Rob came home from a Hornets game and we ended up driving to the Dairy Queen in Plaza Midwood for a late-night dessert.

It was one of those muggy spring nights that feels more like summer than anything else--79 degrees at 9:45 PM, windows down on the highway with the new Death Cab for Cutie album blaring, hair sticking to my damp shoulders. A line around the corner for ice cream and the smell of honeysuckle in the air.

It felt a lot like home.

Lately we've been talking about what our life might look like if Rob had to travel for work, and the other day I had a bit of a breakdown when what had been excitement and opportunity turned temporarily into sadness and frustration: I've worked really hard for this home. We said we wouldn't move again, so we found a running path and a coffee shop and we got a dog and I painted a wall in our bedroom and bought a six-month barre membership. Because we live here. 

When we moved here last August and I didn't like it, I pushed through and forced myself to call it home. And it worked--we live here and I like it.

It means something to belong somewhere, even if you have to force it at first.

But I always manage to find pieces of myself everywhere we go. There will be warm nights and chocolate-dipped ice cream cones that remind me of my childhood; and every time I hear Little Wanderer I'll remember that first spring after we were married when we drove around Charlotte for no reason at 10 PM on a Wednesday, breathing in the humid air and wondering what might be next for us. 

Whether it's a hotel room in New York City or a house with a front porch and a backyard in Charlotte, home will always be wherever we find ourselves.

Photo by V.A. Photography.

"I just feel sad today," I said on Tuesday afternoon, and he replied with an uplifting "Oh, you know what we should do? Celebrate Valentine's Day early! Let's go on a little date somewhere close."

So I got off the couch and put on a dress and curled my hair, thinking about how far we had come as our new dog napped on the floor of our bedroom. And we went to dinner and sat at a high top in the bar of our favorite neighborhood restaurant and drank martinis and ate goat cheese and I looked at him in the fading sunlight, wondering how in the world I ever got so lucky.

I don't know if Rob ever imagined that anxiety and overwhelm would make its way into my life at age 22, but it did and sometimes I just feel too swamped to think straight. And on days like those, he finds a way to make things better--like coming home Tuesday after work with dinner plans, a bar of fancy chocolate, and the microwave popcorn I had been fantasizing about for days.

Maybe he didn't mean or plan to be cut out for this, but he certainly is everything I never even knew I needed.

Six years ago my husband asked me to be his valentine, and since then I have encountered new things to be grateful for every single day.