My significant other, whom I regularly refer to as my husband is, in fact, not technically my husband. We’ve never stood in front of a preacher or a judge and spoken vows; we don’t have an official-looking document from the county making our union legal and we don’t have an album full of staged “candid” photos. But seriously… that’s just a technicality.

We refer to one another as husband and wife. We share joy and tears. We both labor intensively in our humble little house to make it a home. We put each other first. 10 months ago, we made our own “Certificate of Commitment” and we drove the short distance to the site of our first date. We stood by the lake, in the dead of night, stared deeply into one another’s eyes and we took turns speaking. He told me how much I meant to him and how he had never known anyone like me. His gorgeous blue eyes twinkled as he promised to take care of me, to protect me, to be faithful to me and to love me as long as his heart was beating. When it was my turn, I stood amazed at this man I had found… or who had found me. I promised to always, always be there for him — to prove wrong his assumption that his heart would always end up broken. I promised to make our love and our life my number one priority. I promised to never judge and always love with everything I had. I promised to be faithful and to do everything within my power to show him what it meant to truly be loved.

I remember wishing I had recorded the whole thing so we could listen to it later when those inevitable disagreements popped up. We framed that certificate and it is proudly displayed in our living room. I’m always buying new frames for it because nothing ever seems quite good enough for that little piece of paper that stands for so much. But truthfully, we don’t need a document of any kind to make our commitment meaningful. Someday soon, we’ll do the wedding thing and make it legal. But I couldn’t be any more committed than I am now and neither could he.

I searched a very, very long time for that person who would make my life better simply by being a part of it. There is no way I’m going to let him go.

My mom visited this weekend. It was the first time she had been around the two of us for more than a couple of hours at a time. I have to admit it was incredibly satisfying to see her absorbing the way we interact with each other. J and I have had to deal with a lot in these first couple of years and I know my parents have wondered why we keep trying. After a brief exchange with my mom this weekend, I know that now she gets it. And I think she’s a little envious.

I wake up every morning and look at this amazing man I am fortunate enough to call my husband and I almost can’t believe how happy I am. I finally have the one thing I had grown to accept I would never have.

And it’s even better than I imagined.