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Meg Sanders and her husband Brian pose for a photo on their wedding day in 2006.

Courtesy Meg Sanders

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Meg Sanders (right) poses for a photo with her family in 2026.

Courtesy Meg Sanders

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I never saw myself as a milestone girl. I couldn’t tell you when I had my first date with my husband, when we went “official,” had our first kiss or anything that followed. Even our wedding date was confusing for the first couple of years.

The date was solid, all even numbers, but just before we sent the invitations, it shifted to another. Because my dad couldn’t miss the Real Madrid versus Real Salt Lake game at Rice-Eccles Stadium, the date was moved up a day to make it odd.

“Two once-in-a-lifetime-events on the same day,” was his lament.

We couldn’t convince David Beckham to reschedule, so we did.

For years we’d stop and think before saying our anniversary. When I ordered our “First Christmas” ornament, I even engraved the wrong date

This milestone is different.

It’s been 20 years. I haven’t done anything for 20 years except breath. But now I’ve spent 20 years with one person around enough to recognize the back of his hand raised in the middle of crowd during a live concert.

I watched my grandparents make it nearly 60 years, with my grandpa always saying the secret to a good marriage is they never wanted to get divorced at the same time. My parents are celebrating 51 years together, thanks in part to a multi-level house and my dad’s constant need to always be outside gardening.

I’ve watched two marriages survive some of the worst life has to offer. They’ve convinced me that experiencing the best parts of life together is worth the work.

It takes humility and humiliation.

While I’ve seen what it takes to stay in a marriage, I’ve also seen the bravery, strength, resilience and advocacy it takes to recognize when it’s over and it’s time to leave. I’ve seen the worst marriage can become and the best life that can begin afterward.

After 20 years, I believe three things are found in marriage:

1. Forgiveness is required

When we were young, I made some poor financial decisions. My parents won’t be shocked to hear me admit that. Money wasn’t something I understood the way Brian did. I thought keeping up and looking the part mattered. I know now it could have cost me something far more valuable than money.

Instead of holding my mistakes over my head, Brian chose forgiveness. He took the hit with me, taught me financial accountability and, together, we dug our way out.

Through his patience and understand, I realized no purchase, no cute outfit and no night out was worth risking the trust of the person I loved most.

2. Grace begats grace

Early in our marriage, especially after the kids came along, I made a quiet promise to myself: I wouldn’t blame Brian for being human.

I came home from work one day to find our toddler with a broken arm after jumping off bed. For a split second, every emotion rushed in. I wanted to ask how this could happen. I questioned how I couldn’t leave for work without someone getting hurt.

Then another thought followed just as quickly.

My day was coming.

Sooner or later, I would be the parent on duty when one of our kids did something spectacularly kid-like and ended up injured. I’d make a mistake. I’d miss something. I’d desperately want grace instead of blame.

So I gave Brian the same grace I hoped one day he’d give me.

We were two imperfect people trying to raise tiny humans while figuring ourselves out at the same time.

No one walks into marriage and parenthood without turning life into the washing machine’s agitation cycle. Two completely different worlds collide and somehow become one family.

Leaving room for each other’s humanity has made us better parents than trying to prove who had the better approach.

3. Humility + humiliation = No ego

I have been wrong more than I’ve been right in this marriage which doesn’t make sense because Brian’s also been wrong more than he’s been right.

Somewhere along the way, the need to be right became less important than protecting our peace.

Brian is a character. He’s an observer until suddenly he’s the life of the party. His calm nature, analytical mind and willingness to forgive make him an easy person to build a life with.

In return, I’m willing to overlook the collection of underwear behind the bedroom door, his ability to sing the same five song lyrics for weeks on end and his unwavering belief that the kitchen sink should never contain a single dish. Instead he stacks them next to the kitchen sink. May wonders never cease.

My hope is there will be another 20 years because the mold was broken, and I’m not signing up to train another man.

My sisters, cousin and I have already agreed that if things ever go sideways, we’ll start an all-female compound somewhere and call it good.

Until then, I’ll ride out this life with my high school boyfriend–the man who’s given me three unique kids, the opportunity to stay home with them when they were little, a safe place to land and as Joan Didion wrote, “You have your wonderful memories… as if memories were solace. Memories are not. Memories are by definition of times past, things gone.” I’ll be grateful I lived them with Brian.

I’m not a milestone girl, but I am one who recognizes when I have it good. Happy Anniversary to us!