My grandmother wrote me a letter before my wedding. Her marriage advice insulted me at first, but now I get it.

• I married my husband, Scott, back in April of 2025.
• My grandmother wrote a letter with controversial advice before the big day.
• She warned me that married life isn't all "plain sailing."

I married my husband, Scott, in April 2025 after four years of dating.

Nobody was more excited for the wedding than our families. They rallied around us, sharing tips and calming me down when the planning became stressful.

My sister made a scrapbook for me to open the night before the nuptials. Inside, there were handwritten letters from my bridesmaids, my mom, and my 79-year-old grandmother.

The letters were sweet, romantic, and optimistic — well, almost all of them were. My grandmother's letter had an ominous tone.

"I wish you and Scott all the happiness in the world in your married life. I am sure you two are just right for each other. That's not to say it will all be plain sailing," she wrote.

"There may be bumps along the road," she added, "but love has a way of forgiving a multitude of sins."

I was alarmed by my grandmother's note

It was a huge contrast to the other letters in the scrapbook. While my bridesmaids reminisced about the past and shared excitement for my future, my grandma's words stopped me in my tracks.

I remember laughing and shaking my head in disbelief. I then handed the letter to my mom, who was equally unimpressed.

It's not that I didn't appreciate the advice. But really, who wants to hear the words "love" and "sins" mentioned in the same sentence? Especially when it's in relation to your own husband.

For a brief moment, I contemplated what she meant by the word "sins." Cheating? Lying? Or something else?

My gran has a fantastic relationship with my husband, so I couldn't imagine what sparked her cautionary words. Similarly, I had never spoken a bad word about Scott to my grandmother.

Of course, like any couple, we'd had fights, but it was never anything relationship-threatening. And I had never spoken about it with my her.

Ultimately, I disregarded the note, just as you would ignore a speck of dirt on a white wedding dress. Even if nobody else notices it, you know it's there.

Five months later, I learned a major lesson

The wedding day was picture-perfect.

I felt so fortunate that we got to celebrate with our loved ones, especially our grandmothers. Both Scott and I were the first grandchildren in our families to get married, so it felt extra special.

Five months later, I found my grandma's letter while looking through the scrapbook. It looked different to me with fresh eyes. Now that some time had passed, I could look at it from a new perspective. I could read without taking it personally.

I thought about my grandmother's life, and I realized that her words were never about my husband and me.

My gran married my late grandfather when they were just teenagers, and it's fair to say they had many bumps in their own love story. Let's just say, their relationship wasn't like the kind I grew up watching in romantic comedies and Disney films.

However, they loved each other deeply. They were loyal, forgiving, and supported each other throughout their more than 50-year marriage.

Staying in love is a choice

Thinking about their relationship reminded me that falling in love is a feeling, but staying in love is a choice. It's an action. It's not something that just happens to a person.

The wedding is the beautiful part, but the marriage? That's where things have the potential to get messy.

I've been married for less than a year, so I'm not pretending to know all the answers. But if I'm honest with myself, I can admit that my grandma's letter shook me because it didn't fit the aesthetic Instagram version of what I thought marriage was supposed to be.

I know that my husband and I have a great deal of joy ahead of us. But we're also going to witness one another's pain, grief, disappointment, and growth. That's just a part of sharing your life with someone.

If I ever catch myself feeling unprepared, I know I can revisit my grandma's letter.