by mssinglemama on July 8, 2009
My aunt and I were talking on the phone about my French-Canadian fiance.
We would be getting married in her back yard in just a few days. I was frantically planning the wedding so we could beat an INS deadline to kick him out of the country.
“So, do you have that feeling?” she asked. “You know how people say ‘when you know, you know.’ Do you have it?”
“No, I don’t. It’s not there. Is that bad?”
“Oh, I’m sure it’s fine. You know you want to be with him, right?”
“Yeah. And that’s crazy anyway? It’s all a risk, a leap of faith, how can you just know?”
I was 25-years-old and I was really good at talking myself into things. [click to continue…]
by mssinglemama on June 5, 2009
I looked up at my little sister. I had my wedding dress bunched up around my thighs and I was squatting on the toilet in my aunt’s house.
“Don’t ever do this,” I said.
Getting married, the actual wedding part, was painful for me.
Maybe it was because I was marrying the wrong man or maybe it’s because I planned my wedding in three days (a must to meet my French Canadian boyfriend’s expiration date for his time in the US.)
I was only 25-years-old. One year later I would be pregnant at just 26-years-old and wishing I had never done what I was about to do.
“Ever,” I said sternly.
She looked at me with her mouth gaping and nodded. [click to continue…]
