Runaway pride

I have no idea why my body rejected marriage. 

I knew I felt a little apprehensive about saying yes when he sprung it on me on my birthday. 

Like it was a gift to me that he would ask me to marry him on the day I was born. 

I was really ticked off when he asked as well. 

Because there was something in my eye and he put my hands down as I was brushing it out and held my face and asked me. I couldn’t even get a clear view of what he looked like when he asked this important question because there was pollen in my eye. 

I went through the motions of planning it out. Well being present as his mother did. 

It almost felt as if the wedding could have happened to anyone and whoever said yes got put on a purveyor belt and moved down the assembly line of wedding things for Paul. 

I started resenting him. For not understanding that everything felt wrong. It was not about one day. Or that I was needed to call the shots being the bride. It just felt that my life was going to be taken over by this family that does not see me at all. 

I thought Paul saw me. 

But the closer we got to marriage the more I noticed the cracks in his faced. 

Like he was playing this perfect character to achieve me. 

Achieve anyone really. 

Why does partnership feel like anyone can fit the mold to some people. 

And others feel like they will absolutely die if they don’t have that perfect imperfect piece to finish their puzzle. Like a mad detective trying to solve the missing piece to a case. 

I’m not saying that one person exists for me. 

I’m just saying I don’t think I could play the part of just Girl. Bride. Wife. Mother. 

I feel I am more than that. Factually everyone is- we are all very intricate and different and you hope you get a partner that likes you for those intricate pieces and not just “yeah she checks off most of the boxes, she will do”

I realize this all makes me sound quite insecure. 

But. It is sort of the opposite of that. 

I feel secure, feeling I don’t want to settle with someone who doesn’t see or embrace my flaws. I don’t want to cover them up with a smile. 

I want them to be apart of whatever marriage I enter. As much as I want theirs to be present as well. 

My body started shutting down the closer we got to the day. I couldn’t eat I couldn’t sleep. I had knots of anxiety for 3 months straight. 

Everyone said it was wedding nerves. But this felt different. 

I remember I was talking to this man about sleep training and how it didn’t go so well for his daughter. Everyone says let them cry it out, don’t go back in to the room they will eventually tire and will get what they need. Sleep. 

This father could tell her cries were different. They sounded painful. He went to check in on her against all the rules of not breaking the cry to ruin the hard work they had done. He said fuck it and went in. 

When he was picking her up he noticed a hernia on her belly. 

She had cried so hard she had gotten a hernia. He felt something was wrong and it was. 

I think about this sometimes. How we can all jump to the general opinion or consensus of how someone feels like its a run of the mill experience. We brush off those feelings and don’t give them extra attention or care. We pass it off as some simple thing that everyone goes through. When they could actually be real cries of pain. 

I had to trust my gut and leave my wedding. 

Yes. On the day of. 

I had to exit and physically leave, mid makeup. 

Sometimes our external conversations do not match our internal ones. 

I could not speak about this out loud. It was so painful and confusing. I had to just put one foot in from to the other and leave. 

I felt awful. Absolutely guilty. But my body went in to panic get out of there mode. 

If I had stayed I would have been coaxed in to doing it. 

This all sounds quite dramatic. Boo hoo. A perfect wedding with a great family who seemed to welcome you with open arms. And that is true. I do understand I walked away from what would have been the perfect next step to growing up, safely. 

But- again, there are SOME people who prefer the challenge of walking thru fire to get to the other side and find something. More. 

It might sound greedy. But sometimes less is more. I had too much of a surface great thing. Too many of the things every kid writes down on the list of things they want to grow up and marry. But I was starved for an honest connection. A real see you and through you type of love. 

So I sacrificed what so many girls would kill for. But I sacrificed it for my own little voice deep down inside, that doesn’t really know what’s next but knows that what is in front is not right. Gut. 

I have learned so much and continue to do so since this wretched day. 

My ex and I are on speaking cordial terms. His family wants nothing to do with me. Being British and all, public embarrassment is worse than well… It is the worst. 

I now live in a small flat with 3 other flatmates. No one holds the door open for me, takes me to fancy dinners, wipes my tears when I feel overwhelmed with anything. We drink cheap beer, our place is always too cold and never fully functional. 

And it is exactly where I feel I am meant to be. 

I don’t think I replaced what I had with Paul on anyone, a safety net. I do feel though that I have had little cheerleaders on the side lines holding up signs and chanting me on as I get my stride back. We look out for each other. I feel comfortable in my loneliness. In my sadness. My happiness. Because I know that it’s true. I know I was meant to fall to get back up and learn the harder lessons to be the person I am proud to be. You’ll never find it unless you try. 

In the end its just me myself and I. :-)