My husband and I got married on the 4th July 2009, and my goodness, what a lot has happened in our lives – and in the world – since then.

Our wedding day was hot and sunny. We were young and full of life and naivety. I spent the morning causing my mum untold stress by messing about on the trampoline after having my hair done and generally being relaxed, clueless and distractible. I was blissfully unaware of the pressure that was on everyone else who helped to make the day happen. Only afterwards did I fully appreciate the organisational, emotional and financial pressures it must have put on our families. So many people played a part in making the day one of love, joy and celebration. People produced flowers, cake, music, a minibus, a car, prayers and more. It was a happy, memorable day.

Our marriage, like our wedding day, has been happy, as much because of those around us as anything else. I have learned that marriage and family can only really work when surrounded by wider love and support. Family, friendship and community are everything.

Andrew and I are very fortunate. Thanks to the help of others, we have a beautiful home (it has fingerprints everywhere, holes in the wall and the washing up is rarely done – but it is still beautiful). We also have two adopted children, of whom we are immensely proud. They keep us on our toes. Thanks to them, we do a lot of laughing, a fair bit of crying and an awful lot of running about in the field.

Andrew and I have experienced a lot together: living in different places; travelling; meeting new people; trying out different jobs and figuring out our passions. We have experienced failure, frustration, grief and fear. We’ve grown friendships and made homes. Sometimes we infuriate each other; sometimes we barely speak. But perhaps the most powerful thing we have found in each other is perseverance. In the face of confusion, stress, exhaustion and worry, we haven’t yet given up.

I am notoriously bad at showing my feelings and easily overwhelmed. I am prone to retreating into books, getting carried away with random creative pursuits, and agreeing to house various animals without full consultation. Andrew is long-suffering in his patience with me.

Andrew is creative, resourceful, practical, and strong. He never gives up on the children and me, even when he doesn’t get much back. He has made our home the place it is; putting up the indoor swing, sourcing the blue front door and the cosy wood burner; doing up tractors and building any number of things, from goat climbing frames and chicken houses to play houses and bookshelves.

A few of my favourite memories with Andrew:

Saturday mornings in our flat in Peckham, spent walking in the neighbourhood, getting coffee; playing Scrabble and watching Jonathan Creek; growing herbs on the windowsill; and seeing how many people we could squeeze into our tiny space and cook chilli for.

Moving into a new house, painting the kitchen a courageous lime green and sticking a hammock and guinea pigs in the garden.

Picking up our daschund puppy on something of a whim; our first Christmas as just us and the dog when Andrew cooked and we had a fresh country walk and a cosy fire.

Making fertility appointments date days with river walks and meals out.

Travelling to meet our adoptive children and spending time getting to know them. We loved them straight away.

Making family rituals during the Covid lockdowns: Saturday family barbeques, walks in the woods, and lots of puddle jumping. Andrew even made an old door into a slide for the children in the kitchen at one point.

I could go on: 17 years is a long time, after all. Suffice to say that, to both Andrew and those around us, I am immensely grateful. Here’s to another 17 years!

I wrote this poem a few years ago, and the pictures are of our beautiful anniversary walk today.