I never thought I’d get married.
It had been mentioned in my previous relationship, in the most negative terms imaginable and when I did allow myself to envisage being legally bound to the person I was with then, I felt physically ill.
Worse, I imagined running screeching from the room into the path of a double decker bus, anything to avoid a lifetime of being controlled and belittled.
To illustrate this, I attended several weddings over the course of that
debacle ‘relationship’ and left all of them indecently early after having a panic attack in the ladies and being violently sick.
I write this because today is my third year anniversary. I did fall in love with the right person and we got married.
I pondered this post for a while. First it was going to be about what marriage means to me. Then it was going to be an open love letter to my husband, inspired by the one written by Jacqueline Kennedy (not the greatest omen, perhaps) but everything I typed just seemed a little too schmaltzy and a bit forced.
Then I got over myself and realised that schmaltzy is my friend,so here’s my highly sentimental I ♥ My Husband collage:
(We need to get a new pose).