Andy and I met on a sort of a blind date in November of 1984. Our friend, Lisa, fixed us up. I refused to go on a real date, so I made her come along. Andy was living in New Orleans and working for Amoco as a petroleum geologist. He was visiting Lisa in New York City on his vacation. I was working as a secretary at New York University because I did not know what I wanted to do after I quit my job in publishing.

We had a very nice time on our first "date." In the back of my mind, I kept remembering that Andy was going back to New Orleans and there was no way that I was getting involved with a man who lived two thousand miles away from me. He walked me to the subway at the end of the evening and we said good-bye. I figured that was the end of it. Lisa, on the other hand, had other plans. She gave Andy my address and he began to write letters to me. Andy has a great sense of humor. He is smart and clever and an incredible artist. Also, he is an marvelous writer. He wrote long, interesting, sometimes silly, letters to me and I wrote back. I began to fall in love.

At the end of February, I went to visit my grandmother in Florida and I wrote to Andy, asking him if he was interested in joining me at Disney World. When I tell this story, I like to say that I fell completely in love in Disney World and then spent the next several months convincing Andy that he was in love, too. The fact is that Andy would never have allowed himself to be convinced of something of which he was not already pretty sure.

In October of 1985, I moved down to New Orleans to live with Andy. It was the bravest thing I had ever done in my life, up to that point. I moved away from my friends and my family and everything I knew to live with a man, whom I did not yet know very well, in a strange new city. I was afraid of being a short, Jewish woman from New York City in the deep South. My family was surprised that I was leaving New York. I loved New York so much that I had even gone to college there. I had sworn dozens of times that I would never live anywhere else in my life. I learned that it is important to be flexible about my convictions and my dreams. One of the things that I knew was that I had been dating boys, and then men, since I was thirteen years old, and Andy was the last man I ever intended to date.

We lived together in New Orleans for a year. It was hard for me. Andy and I did not know each other all that well when I moved into his apartment with all my clothes and things. I was used to living alone, getting my own way and being in charge of my life-- and so was he. One of the things that I have learned to do since that first year is compromise. Compromise was very difficult for me. If I did not get my way, then I felt that I had lost something. I learned that compromise is important when two people are trying to live together. I learned how to accept a compromise without feeling like a failure. When we first started living together, Andy and I argued a lot. We were testing each other and figuring out boundaries and territory. I had a tendency to say the most hurtful things that I could think of during an argument. I thought it was important to win an argument. This would be one of the bad things I got from my parents. Andy, for his part, thought that every time we argued it meant that we did not love each other anymore. He thought that an argument meant we were breaking up. We have both learned that it is natural for couples to fight and that any two people living together all the time are going to have arguments and compromises. About three years ago, we found that we had just naturally stopped arguing. We still did not always agree, but instead of arguments, our disagreements had begun to be resolved by discussions and talking. We found that most conflicts we had were resolved easily and quickly, and without any loud or painful arguments.

In August of 1986, Andy and I got married, moved to Boston, and both started graduate school. On the scale of stress indicators, all three rate fairly high. We deal with any stress or difficulties by talking to each other all the time about everything. When it comes to discussing our feelings, I do most of the talking. I tell Andy what I am feeling and he listens and comments and then I tell him what I think he is feeling and he tells me whether or not I am correct and he comments. Since I almost never stop talking and he is very quiet, this arrangement suits us well.

Andy and I enjoy most of the same activities. We love to go to the movies. We like museums and, especially, aquariums. Andy taught me to enjoy going for long walks. He also just repaired our bicycles so that we might start riding bikes again (I am a little nervous about this). We love the ocean, although we don't like to go in the water. We love to travel and sightsee. When we go on vacations, we walk for miles and make a point of seeing every tourist attraction available. Andy has never been to Europe, and while I have, including spending a summer in Switzerland as an exchange student, I have never been to Paris. It is a dream of mine to live in Paris for a summer. Someday, we will go to Paris.

We love to read. I usually do not have time to read for pleasure during the school year, so in the summer I make up for it by reading at least fifty books (preferably by women authors). Andy loves to write. He corresponds with many friends who live across the continent and the globe and he has several penpals. He also writes complicated and lovely poetry. I write letters only because I enjoy getting mail.

Music is very important to me. I am a singer and a musician. I play the guitar. Andy is always impressed by the number of songs that I know. I was brought up on folk songs and union songs. In high school, I sang in choir and in a special small choral ensemble. In college, I sang Gershwin and Cole Porter with friends. I look forward to teaching the songs I grew up with to our children the way my mother taught them to me.

I do not believe in fate. I do not believe there is one right person in the world for me. I believe Andy and I are lucky to have found each other. I never take that for granted. We laugh at the same things. We find the same things to be important. We support each other in our work and feelings, our hopes and dreams. Friends of mine tell me that they want to have a relationship like ours. They want to talk about their husbands or boyfriends in the same way that I talk about Andy. When I ask them what they mean, they tell me that whenever I talk about him, it is clear that I love him, that he loves me, that we respect each other and cherish each other. My friends tell me that they have never heard me say anything mean or unkind about him. When we are together, it is clear that we like each other more than anyone else and that we would rather be together than anywhere else. I think that is an excellent description of us. I know we are privileged. Our relationship is solid and indestructible.

Want to read Andy's version of the story?  Try this.