My High School Sweetheart

During the Piggy Tales Project, I have had many weeks when I debated about what I should write about – but for my senior year, there is no doubt. I met my future husband in the spring of 12th grade, though I didn’t know it then…
Senior year was a year of changes for me. I’d been working part-time, I’d scaled back my commitment to the color guard team, I’d begun to make college plans, and I’d had an unpleasant break-up and more than one unrequited crush. My best friend decided to introduce me to a guy she worked with. She was actually dating one of his friends, and suggested a double-date, but on one condition: it was to be NOTHING SERIOUS. I was warned up and down by my friend (and her nervous boyfriend) that this guy was all about playing the field. Under no circumstances was I to fall for him and get myself hurt.

This is the "cool guy" pose.

So the four of us spent an evening together during which I wondered if they’d even told him they’d be bringing me along. I don’t think he said 10 words to me. Some “player.” The next day, my friend called from work – J wanted to know what I thought of him. What? I was supposed to think of him? I thought he was cute, but aloof, and couldn’t say much else. The four of us hung out together a few more times, and sparks were kindled. I was far from his “type,” and he was far from mine, but it seems that was just what both of us needed.


He had graduated high school two years earlier and was sowing some oats while he searched for direction at the local community college. I was about to graduate as valedictorian, applied to one college because I knew exactly where I wanted to be, and as far as high school relationships went, felt most comfortable as somebody’s girlfriend, not out on the prowl.


I was attracted to his humor, his spontaneity, and his sense of adventure. He did things with me he’d never considered before, including chaperoning an elementary science camp and attending my senior prom. He decided to transfer to the community college in the city where I’d be attending the university. (He swears he had been planning on transferring there all along, but I like to think I had something to do with it.)

This is the "monkey-ing around at the cousin's birthday party" pose.

We continued to date for the next 7 years, which included two more school transfers (and cities) for him, a BA plus grad school for me, several stints living together, working part time together, a return to our hometown, the start of each of our careers, and our share of bumps in the road (even a temporary break-up) before we said, “I do.”

Prom!

Against the odds and all advice, we made it in the long term, and are enjoying a happy marriage and blessed family today.