28April2025
Dear Diary,
Seven years ago I married a man who had hardly anything to his name, and my whole family laughed at me. I can still hear my aunts snide remarks from back then, the way she would roll her eyes when I talked about James. I know that many women have a picture in their head of the perfect husbandsomeone with a good bank balance, perhaps even a dashing modeltype figure on the cover of a magazine. I, however, had my own list of nonnegotiables.
First and foremost, I could not tolerate drinking. I have seen enough drunken evenings to know they lead nowhere, and I was determined that my children would never have to watch a perpetually inebriated father. I also wanted a man who was hardworking, not lazy, and honest to a fault. Material things never mattered to me; whether he owned a car or a flat was irrelevant. I didnt come from a line of millionaires, so I had no reason to chase after something Id never possessed.
My mother, Margaret, raised me and my brother Thomas on her own, so luxury was never on the table. James and I lived together for a year before we tied the knot. He was the youngest of six siblings, a respectable fellow who taught chemistry at the University of Birmingham. He still lived in his parents house in a modest suburb of Coventry, sharing a kitchen with his mother and older brother.
Our wedding was tinyjust the closest relatives and a handful of friends gathered at StMarys church in StratforduponAvon. After the ceremony we moved in together and quickly discovered how different our personalities were. It took about six months of negotiations, arguments, and latenight talks before we started to understand each others rhythms.
The first time I saw James cry was when our first baby, little Lily, was born. Seeing his eyes well up with pride and fear made me realise how deeply he loved us. Over the years his career shifted to the private sector, and he now earns a solid salaryenough to buy our first house in a leafy street of Northampton after wed spent years renting a flat in Manchester. Were not rolling in money, but were comfortable and, most importantly, healthy.
We still have our spats, but we always sit down, talk through the prickly parts, and learn to resolve our disagreements. Ive watched many friends chase wealth only to lose everything else. One of them, Poppy, married a rich businessman. At first everything sparkled, but soon he started cheating, taking money from her parents and refusing to take responsibility. She is now considering divorce, but she refuses to leave her two children with him. Seeing her turmoil confirms for me that I chose the right path.
Every day I fall more in love with Jameswatching him play with the kids, caring for me, calling just to ask if Ive eaten. Those small moments feel like gifts. I hope every woman can find a partner who loves her genuinely, regardless of the size of their wallet. Today, as we mark the anniversary of the day we said I do seven and a half years ago, I am grateful for the simple, steady happiness we have built together.
