When my eldest sister got married (to an absolute arse hole - another post for another day), and it was just her and Dad sat at home waiting for the wedding car, Dad gave her an 'out'. He told her she didn't have to go through with the wedding, she could take her frock off, polish off the Vodka with Dad and leave everyone else to figure out what had happened. She chose to get married.
On the morning of my wedding I knew I was making the biggest mistake of my life. I had spent the entire week trying to work out what I could do to cancel, postpone, vanish.... I knew it would all be ok in the end though. I knew my Dad, my Hero, would make things ok. He would offer me the same 'out' as he had my sister. No reason required - just an 'out'. It never came.
We waited for the wedding car, just Dad and I. he told me how proud he was of me. He told me how much he & Mum adored Mr H - the son they had never had. I cried as he walked me down the aisle. I cried as I saw the faces of my family and friends. I cried when I saw the 4 friends who had stayed at our home on the night of the stag party.
Yet everyone else was so very happy.
I made my vows in front of God and in saying each and every word I made a commitment to make this marriage work, for better or worse. How bloody true those words were.
So there it happened, I became Mrs H.
I worked at being Mrs H for 3 years. The events of the evening of the Stag party were repeated many times - each time I convinced myself it would be the last. Gone was the selfish, naive and conceited young lady and in her place was me, Mrs H. Too proud and ashamed to admit what was happening.
Then I met Mr M.
1 year ago