His story
Gavin Turk, 46, artist
We met at art college in 1985. I was 18 and Deborah was 20. She was friends with a girl I was going out with. Three years later we got together – she was about to go travelling and there was a sense of irresponsibility about it. She wrote me masses of letters while she was away and when she came back we moved in together.
We had our first two children in the mid-90s. In the first four or five years of their lives we didn't have much money and moved house every six months. I didn't feel I was doing well with my career or parenting, and my anxiety was having a bad effect on everything. It was hard for Deborah, too, but she got stuck in and stayed steady.
In the end, things turned around and the dark cloud went away. Deborah values the fact that our relationship doesn't have to take up a certain form. She's not trying to make me into anything and hopefully I'm not trying to make her into anything. She has a strong moral compass. As an artist, part of your job is to put one foot over a moral fence. She's frequently been a big support for me.
We married in 2012 for lots of reasons. My dad was ill but also, after such a long time together, the pressure was off. We did it at a point where we were able to be our own audience.
We're moving into a slightly new phase of our relationship. Our three children are still at home, but the elder two don't need much looking after. We're starting to look outside of our family responsibilities and trying to figure out the best way to spend our lives together.
Gavin Turk is showing in White Light/White Heat at the Wallace Collection and London College of Fashion from 27 November
Her story
Deborah Curtis, 48, founder of the House of Fairy Tales
Just before I went travelling, Gavin and I had this moment where we connected like we never had before. Two years later, when I arrived back in London, I found myself going straight to his. I put my bags down and didn't move out. We just knew. Gavin's very calm and doesn't really get stressed. That's a powerful influence on someone as anxious and emotional as me.
I probably give him more of a political perspective on life. Artists are generally quite amoral people. They reflect the world and don't sit in judgment on it. Sometimes his lack of making a plan frustrates me. And – weirdly – his lack of ambition. He is motivated by ideas and wanting to make art, but not necessarily a career. It means we often don't make a life plan. Things happen to us and we go with it. We both didn't agree with the institution of marriage. But as you get older you want to create more structure, especially in a creative life. Calling him my boyfriend was quite fun, then after a while it felt juvenile. "Father of my children" sounded like we'd split up. And "partner" sounded like a business partner. There was no way to define our relationship apart from the good old traditional way.
We recently had our honeymoon in Morocco. We hadn't been away without children or work for the best part of 20 years. I was a little worried about how we would get on. But we reverted back to when we were young and exploring, and finding things funny. We have a mutual understanding of the surreal and absurd. I often look at elderly couples who are enjoying themselves and hope we are able to enjoy ourselves like that when we are older.