Eleven years ago today, Nicholas and I were recklessly in love and pretty young to be getting married. I don’t think we thought so at the time, of course, but hindsight is always 20/20. We’re not crazy young any more, but we’re still crazy in love, and that more than enough for me. In celebration of us, here’s a few anecdotes of our wedding, from an 11-year memory and perspective.

I planned our wedding during my second year of teaching, and while I’m sure it was more challenging planning an out of state wedding than I remember, I mostly remember how excited I was to say “I do,” venture to Negril, Jamaica for our honeymoon, and start our married life together.

We didn’t have an expensive wedding, and even as I write this, I can still hear Pastor Andy telling us to focus on building our life together, instead of just fixating on the wedding. We didn’t have time or money in abundance, and this advice was perfect for us.

My sister and I made the bridesmaid’s flowers from discounted floral from Hobby Lobby, my cousin made my bouquet, a family friend from church made our cake, and we cut Red Vines in half, using Mason jars for containers. My best friend’s sister took most of our photos, and we served a simple dinner, fruit punch for the beverage, and didn’t even toast using champagne.

I wasn’t nervous about the ceremony, but I was terrified about walking down the aisle in corkboard-type platform flip flops—the only shoes I could find that would at least bring me to Nicholas’ shoulders. I didn’t want to make the “You may kiss the bride” moment any more awkward than necessary.

We wrote our own vows, and I inadvertently printed mine on the back of “ABC, 123” recycled paper in my parents’ printer. (My mom taught 1st grade). It was a small wedding, and I’m pretty sure that even the back row could see my error as I unfolded my vows and blushed crimson.

The point is, it was a beautiful day because I was marrying the love of my life, and it didn’t matter that everything wasn’t perfect. We only needed three weeks to figure out we loved each other and should get married, and were engaged for eight months before we officially “got hitched.” It was the beauty of finding someone perfect for me, and in spite of our family and childhood differences, I knew that we’d be creating a future together that was entirely up to us.

I remember the concerns and doubts about us, as I was taking an unconventional route—I didn’t join and marry in my parents’ church, and actually announced I was engaged before they knew I was dating someone. I remember one of my brothers’ responses to my “I’m engaged” announcement—“too who??” he had demanded. I admit I could have handled the time line a bit better, but at the time, I was young, in love, and knew what I wanted. Only now can I look back and appreciate the genuine concern and fear my family felt, as now they knew I’d not be moving back to Illinois, but staying in Atlanta with Nicholas, and beginning a life that would feel foreign to them.

This “foreign” life has come easy for me, for us, and I’m so thankful, and feel entirely blessed to reflect with a grin about our beginning. What began as a chance meeting in a coffee shop has turned into the best thing that has ever happened to me, and every year promises more adventure, memories, and above all, a great, consuming love that I could have never imagined.

Happy Anniversary, Shug.