Jor, Ella, and the Anniversary Date
Where I talk about the story behind our anniversary date!
Intensely late but… happy anniversary, Jor!
Our anniversary is on August 4. Close friends will know that our anniversary was pre-determined; the date was specifically chosen eight years ago. For practical reasons, we preferred a date that wouldn’t coincide with any of our birthdays or that of our loved ones, just so monthsary celebrations wouldn’t conflict with other important dates. For the same reason, the date shouldn’t coincide with any major annual events, like Christmas (24, 25), New Year (31, 1), or Valentines’ Day (14).
But the nerdier reason is that Jor and I love the beauty of numbers and patterns. We were both big math nerds (Jor still is). I love prime numbers while Jor loves perfect squares. We enjoy the beauty of dates following a pattern, like last year’s December 31, 2023 (12-31-23) or this year’s February 4, 2024 (2-4-24). We also have strong and differing opinions on how dates should be written (Me: MM-DD-YYY; Jor: DD-MM-YYYY).
We know this is all probably a coincidence, and patterns do not necessarily imply luck or destiny. Nevertheless, we enjoy a good number combination. Number patterns create beauty, and when the dates line up neatly to form a pattern, it’s as if the universe is nodding in agreement.
So eight years ago, on August 4, 2016 (In DD-MM-YY, 04-08-16, which is also 2^2-2^3-2^4), I said yes to Jor’s months-long courtship, and we’ve been together since. Eight years. Wow.
This year’s anniversary is special. Since we’re talking numbers anyway, eight is often considered lucky in Chinese and Asian cultures. Plus it fits perfectly with our anniversary date, being a multiple of 2, 4, and 8 and a factor of 16 — already enough reason to nerd out. More than that though, eight years is a wonderfully long time, and I’m grateful to still be with the same person. Paradoxically, it also flew by surprisingly. Last year, we were joking about surviving the seven-year itch, and suddenly here we are, well beyond the seven years.
But as most adults discover, life doesn’t always allow you to celebrate your anniversary on time, and days and weeks flew past us. A bummer, no doubt, but we made do with smaller celebrations - a quick happy dinner, a fun YouTube video, and plenty of understanding. Jor told me recently that he loves how good we are at giving each other patience, and I found that beautiful, and very much true. I’ll always be grateful for how much grace Jor gives me, how he hardly ever snaps or throws his frustrations toward me, no matter how tired he is. We’re far from perfect because life takes away so much of our energy. We know we can’t always give 100% to the relationship, but isn’t that why we have each other? To fill in the gaps when one of us can’t? To make up for where one of us is lacking? And—despite how much we love numbers—to never keep score on how much the other has given?
Today, we finally got to celebrate, and I realize moving the celebration didn’t dim the celebration in any way. After eight years, the biggest lesson is that the date, the length, and the time matter much less than the person we choose. What matters is that we’re still here, eight years after consciously deciding on our anniversary date, and still consciously choosing each other, choosing to give, to love, and to bear witness to each other’s lives.
I love you, Jor. To eight years and more.