The Magical Marriage Day

*Trigger Warning: PTSD, Sexual Assault Recovery*

Time flew, Two years found me graduated with a partial degree. He was living in another town finishing his undergrad. I moved to the town and our engagement plan was in full swing. That is until I was laid off from my job and he needed an extra semester.

So we moved up the date for the wedding. I didn’t realize the Math of it all was 9 months until much later. I was caught up in the Serendipity and Romance of the moment. The venue and dates aligned. Some family was supportive. Others objected.

We moved forward lost in the effervescence of Hopes and Dreams.

I truly believed I was whole. That everything would be ok. Yes, I had some quirks to work through, but we had grown so much together. Love conquers all! I had found the love of my life. Not the best that I could get, but better than I deserved. We were both dedicated to a better life.

Yes, there were flaws, but we all have flaws. I’m not one to judge. I have massive flaws I am growing through. I want the Jesus who challenges “those without sin to cast the first stone.”

I had put down all my stones.

I bought the White Dress. Yes, it still made my skin crawl. Yes, I still felt like I was lying. However, I worked hard to earn it thus far. He said I deserved it.

The weeks leading up to the wedding were challenging. Something was off with the Parentals, but I couldn’t quite figure it out. We had lots of disagreements which would end in silence.

He would patiently listen to my frustration and remind me that We were making a new family.

Soon I would be safe in a quiet, home of our own making. We would continue to grow together and it would be an adventure.

The day came.

I did my best to set all the nerves aside. To ignore all the Parental confusing words. To just focus on this day.

The day THEY said would be the best day of my life. I would be the most beautiful of my whole life. I would be so beautiful I would take his breath away. The day would be magical and special and glittery and fairy dust would shimmer everywhere. I believed everything They said. I desperately, in my insecurity and wounds needed it to be true. As much as I tried to remind myself that I was more than my Vaginal Purity…

I still to my core didn’t feel it. I didn’t feel like my body was mine to give to anyone. It felt like a black hole filled with everything rotten and ugly.

I placed all my hopes, and redemption in this ceremony. The White Dress, the Song, the Sermon, the Communion, the Unity Candle. The Traditions. The People around me.

All of these Things would somehow make right the years of wrong that saturated every cell of my body.

30 years ago today, I stood at the end of an aisle. Dressed in Glorious White and filled with dread because I was a fraud. I faced that church clothed in the color of purity. I was not pure.

At the end of that Aisle I saw the man I loved. We held dreams to build a life of love and health. I reminded myself that to him I was pure. We were unknown to each other. That’s what the color meant to us.

He beamed a smile at me, then leaned over to his Best Man. The Best Man laughed. A crackle of courage rippled up my spine. Maybe he thought I was breathtakingly beautiful. Maybe he said he was the luckiest man in the world. I suddenly had the strength in my legs to walk down that aisle to the man who saw the best in me.

I walked toward him and away from The Parentals. Their control over me. Maybe he would unconditionally love me as I am. Maybe he would give me the freedom to be me. Maybe he believed in me.

I walked that aisle and chose him above all others. Unconditionally.