Nine years, still choosing you

Nine years ago, we met as two people with separate lives, uncertain paths, and dreams that felt bigger than what we thought we could reach. Back then, everything was still forming: our identities, our direction, even our understanding of love. We were hopeful, but we were also figuring things out as we went along. We were just trying to live, to get by, to make things work with what we had.

And while today marks nine years since our paths first crossed, our real anniversary—the one I hold closest—is on June 1. The day I said yes to you. The day “us” truly began.

Today, I look at us and see something steady, something grounded. We are in a good place, one that feels earned, not accidental. It’s the kind of peace that comes from years of choosing each other, even when it wasn’t always easy. And I hold onto that with both gratitude and intention. I hope we continue to protect what we have, that no distractions, no outside noise, no fleeting experiences ever take away from what we’ve built together.

Because what we’ve built is real.

We’ve grown individually and as partners. The versions of ourselves from 2017 would probably be amazed at where we are now. Back then, our dreams felt distant, almost abstract. We talked about them like “someday” plans. But slowly, together, we turned those dreams into reality. And in doing so, we gave ourselves permission to dream even bigger.

We’ve traveled to places that once felt out of reach. Places we used to only imagine visiting, places that felt like they belonged to a different life. And yet, step by step, we found ourselves there, living those moments we once only talked about. From just trying to get by, we reached a point where life became a little more comfortable. And in that comfort, we learned how to share it. Not just with each other, but with our families. To give them experiences, to create memories together, to let them be part of the life we worked so hard to build.

Because loving you also meant loving your family.

Somewhere along the way, your family became mine, and mine became yours. It never felt forced. It just happened naturally, as if it was always meant to be that way. We learned to show up not just for each other, but for the people who raised us, shaped us, and continue to support us. And that kind of love, the kind that extends beyond just the two of us, makes what we have even more meaningful.

We’ve seen each other at our best and at our most uncertain. We’ve witnessed growth, change, setbacks, and breakthroughs. And through all of it, we stayed. We adapted. We matured. Not just in age, but in how we love, how we understand, and how we show up for each other.

Now, our hopes feel clearer.

We talk about marriage not just as a milestone, but as a continuation of everything we’ve already started. We imagine building a life somewhere new, a place we can call our own, shaped by shared dreams and quiet routines. We look forward to still growing, still evolving, still choosing each other through every new version of ourselves.

Nine years since we met, and still counting toward every year we get to celebrate.

Nine years in, and I still choose you.

And I hope, no matter what comes our way, we keep choosing each other. Protecting what we have, nurturing it, and never letting anything or anyone take away from the life we’re building together.

Because if there’s one thing these nine years have taught me, it’s this: 

What we have is not something temporary.

It’s something we’ve built, something we’ve grown into, something we continue to choose.

And I will keep choosing you, again and again.