This year my husband Jules and I will celebrate 20 years of marriage and 22 years together.
It doesn't quite seem possible that later this year, I will have spent more of my life with him than not. Twenty-two years is a mere drop in the ocean in terms of world history, but it is also a very long time to share a bed with someone.
We met back in 2001 when working for the same catering firm in Sydney. I was a backpacker living in a share house of five girls and he was a third-year medical student in Newcastle. Neither of us had much cash and one of our first dates was a picnic made up of a leftover half bottle of wine from work. But as we sat and talked while looking across at an illuminated Harbour Bridge, I knew my life was about to change.
Listen: The hosts of Mamamia's podcast for women over 40, The 456 Club, talk relationships and dating after 40. Post continues below.
Eighteen months later we were married, and our 2003 wedding in Dubbo was actually the first wedding I had ever been to as an adult. It was long before Instagram and the pressures of social media, so the details were simple and cost-effective. Bridesmaid dresses were on sale from a department store, friends and family did the catering, took the photos and we made our invites by hand. The main thing I remember about the day is a feeling of love and being loved.
Fast-forward 20 years, and underneath decades of life's challenges, two kids and plenty of stress-induced wrinkles, the love is still there. Jules is still my person and I like to think that I am his.
But relationships are hard, and we have not always had a perfect run.