Momenti speciali

The story of us: a 20-year marriage in pictures

How two decades of photos – early couple shots, weddings, new babies and family milestones – tell the real story of a life lived together

A couple in wedding attire kiss in bright sunlight, holding a bouquet, with lens flare and a blurred natural background.
A couple in wedding attire kiss in bright sunlight, holding a bouquet, with lens flare and a blurred natural background.

L’articolo in breve

  • A marriage isn’t defined by one perfect day, but by thousands of everyday moments quietly captured over time.

  • Photographs chart the shift from couplehood to family life, preserving milestones, routines and the people who shape a shared life.

  • Looking back through images becomes an act of remembrance – a way to relive love, growth and resilience across 20 years together.

The photo frames in my home are on constant rotation, as I often update pictures to ring in the changes. A few weeks ago I was doing just that – replacing an old family beach shot with one taken this summer – when I stumbled across a very old, treasured image. I opened a frame and out fell a photo that had been tucked in the back for goodness knows how long. There, beaming back at me, were the youthful faces of my husband and I on New Year’s Eve 2003 – in what I think was our first ever photo together. We’d met just a few weeks earlier at a Christmas party and this had been quickly snapped by one of his friends on her disposable Kodak.

Two people sitting in a dimly lit setting; one is drinking from a can, and the other is smiling widely at the camera.

I gazed at the image for a while, marvelling at our wrinkle-free complexions and slightly dated outfits, drinks in hand, partying the night away. At the time it was taken we had no idea that over two decades later we would still be a couple. Well, I say that, but in truth I think I did know that he was The One, even back then, and the sheer happiness on my face in that old photo clearly shows it.

Couple smiling and embracing, woman extending hand to show engagement ring. Both wearing white tops, with blurred natural background.

It was to be the first of thousands of images that tell the story of our life together. By the following New Year, we were welcoming in 2005 in his native South Africa, where my husband-to-be had just popped the question and I was flashing my new ring for the camera. I remember the excitement of picking up the pack of fresh, glossy prints a few weeks later and reliving the moment. Some heads and feet had been chopped off, not everyone was looking in the right direction, but there we were – over the moon and celebrating with family and friends. We took them straight to a café round the corner to look through for hours.

A joyous couple celebrates outside, surrounded by falling confetti. The bride holds her dress, and the groom raises his fist in excitement.

I think I did know that he was The One, even back then, and the sheer happiness on my face in that old photo clearly shows it

A white three-layer cake with a slice removed, adorned with white flowers and heart-shaped cake servers on a gold base, displayed on a table.

Ten months later, we were even more thrilled to get our wedding album in the post. Throwing our hands in the air for our cheering, confetti-throwing guests as we left the church; cutting the cake and our laughter as my husband nearly knocked it over in the process; our first dance as husband and wife. Every single photo bursting with love and the anticipation of a new married life together.

Since those early days I’ve taken countless photos of my husband and I. Long before the word “selfie” entered everyday parlance, he would say, “Let’s have a classic self-take” – then snuggle me under his arm and we’d do our best to make sure our old camera was pointed at the correct angle.

While I’m not claiming he invented the selfie (though the totally thinks he did), by the time smartphones came along we already had albums full of the two of us doing everything from nervously grinning on safari with a rhino photobomber to sightseeing in Rome and jumping off boats in the Med. You had 36 shots on a roll of film, so rarely did you waste any on a picture of something mundane. Of course, the invention of smartphones (around our third wedding anniversary) with their inbuilt cameras changed all that, and suddenly we were chronicling daily life in much more detail.

Newborn baby wearing a hospital wristband, peacefully asleep on a person's arm in a cozy, soft light setting.

With the arrival of our first son, the images of two became three. The fresh-faced 20-somethings were now slightly knackered looking parents, but the glow of youth had been replaced by the wonder of parenthood. There are pictures that really stand out in my mind: the first one of my husband proudly cradling our newborn; the adorable shots of him carrying our little toddler on his shoulders; first holidays, first swims, first Christmases. And as our little gang grew with the arrival of two more sons, so did the family album – Christenings, school sports days, road trips and the bleary-eye opening of birthday presents at the crack of dawn. All the wonderful milestones as well as the everyday routine that is married life with kids.

Adult carrying child on shoulders, overlooking a scenic mountain and lake view. Child has arms raised, wearing pink pants and gray shirt.

As exciting as that first flush of love is, it’s the building of a life together and all of those who have shared the journey that feature in our most cherished photos

As the years went on, the photos of just the two of us became few and far between. Not that we cared. Now married for over 20 years, we love flicking back through the shots with our family and friends as much as we do those early pics when it was all about just us. As exciting as that first flush of love is, it’s the building of a life together and all of those who have shared the journey that feature in our most cherished photos.

Two children with an adult in a garden, the adult pointing at plants. The children are focused on the direction pointed.

Our yearly photo books are packed with the happiness we have jointly created. Blowing out the candles on homemade cakes surrounded by cute little faces making wishes; grandparents cheering on wobbly new cyclists or reading bedtime stories; joyously chaotic holidays with aunts, uncles and cousins all playing cricket on the beach; weekends away and dinner parties with the friends who have become like family; the pets we have adored; and – so importantly – the special people who are sadly no longer with us. These are the images that define and celebrate our marriage far more than those taken on our wedding day – that was just the start. We do still try to get the odd photo of just the two of us, and that is important, too. It’s essential not to lose your identity as a couple. We still want a record of “us” among everything else.

A couple in formal attire holding hands walks on a rooftop with a blurred cityscape in the background.

Truly, what I love most about all these photos is the way they take me back to the moment in which they were taken. Would we now – 20 years and three kids later – really remember the small details of these events were they not forever saved in a picture? Probably not. Yet when I look at them it all comes back to me so vividly. They remind my husband and I of how much we have achieved together and of the people we have grown to be – both individually and as a couple. We also get to share them with our kids. Photographic evidence that we were once young and cool – though they would of course dispute that!

No marriage is perfect and people generally tend to only photograph the good bits – if my husband asked me for a selfie when I’ve had a bad day he knows he wouldn’t be met with a cheery smile, and vice versa. But our photos are a tangible testament to our relationship’s success, through the ups and downs. So, while we might look (considerably) older now than in that very first shot, 20 years later we are still just as happy.