“Today I vow to be your wife. I promise to encourage you and hold you up and never hold you back. I promise to love you in your successes and even harder in your failures…”
Three years ago, I stood in front of Braden—shaky-voiced and hopeful-eyed—speaking those words, not knowing what they would really mean once life got messy.
And now? I know.
Because we’ve lived them.
“You Already Are My Family…”
In three years of marriage, we’ve lived in multiple cities, shared countless stages, added a dog, traveled, grieved a miscarriage, welcomed a rainbow baby, and weathered the highs and lows of our careers—sometimes both in the same week.
“There is nothing else I want to build in this life without you…”
When I said that, I didn’t fully understand what building meant. Building has looked like:
- Holding each other through postpartum tears and creative dry spells
- Trading off auditions, call times, and bedtime routines
- Learning to really communicate when the stakes were high and sleep was low
- Letting go of who we thought we’d be, to become who we were meant to be
“You Make Me Laugh with My Whole Chest…”
Some days still feel like a rom-com.
We dance in the kitchen.
We finish each other’s sentences without meaning to.
We share a weird brain.
Everything reminds me of him.
And even after everything, there’s no one I want to talk to more than him.
Many things feel too heavy to laugh since we’ve ben married, but we still do… often it’s in the tiniest moments that remind me why we chose each other.
“I Promise to Grow with You, Not Against You…”
This one hit the hardest.
Because growth in marriage—especially when you’re both artists—isn’t linear.
Sometimes one of us is shining while the other is scraping by.
Sometimes the spotlight shifts, and with it, the balance.
I’ve had to sit in the tension of being proud and also a little heartbroken when Braden is booking shows and I’m praised for “stepping up as a mom.”
It’s not a competition. But it still stings sometimes.
And yet, I chose this. I keep choosing this.
Because supporting his dreams doesn’t mean I’m giving up on mine.
It just means I’m playing the long game—for both of us.
“Becoming Your Wife Is My Greatest Honor…”
Marriage is hard.
Motherhood is hard.
Chasing a dream? Definitely hard.
But it’s also sacred.
I thought I knew what I was vowing to three years ago. I didn’t. Not really.
But I meant it. Every word.
“With every fiber of my being, today and forever, I love you…”
And now? I love him with more context. With more truth. With more tenderness, even when I don’t feel tender.
The Beauty in the Becoming
The longer you’re with someone, the happy stuff tends to feel smaller. But small doesn’t mean insignificant.
We still dance together in the kitchen.
We laugh in the quiet moments.
We make each other better—slower than we thought, but deeper than we imagined.
And maybe that’s the magic.
Because love isn’t just something we promised at the altar.
It’s something we keep practicing—messy, imperfect, honest love.
If you’re an artist, a parent, a partner trying to hold all your titles with grace—this is for you.
You can want love and ambition.
You can be proud of someone and ache for your own breakthrough.
You can be living your vows in ways you never expected.
And that? That’s real love.
Jessica Tanner 
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