2011/03/29 by Elizabeth
When I was a little girl, I remember telling my mum that I was NEVER going to get married – a completely understandable position to take given not one of my relatives has been able to maintain a happy marriage. That’s right – from my grandmother, to my mother, my elder sister, aunt and uncle – all of them had tied the knot only to have it unravel in spectacular fashion. To say I was cynical about marriage was an understatement of epic proportions.
I remained committed to never committing well into my adult life, not settling in to my first ‘proper’ relationship until just before my 30th birthday. That’s not to say I didn’t enjoy my fair share of ‘good times’ with the opposite sex – I just wasn’t interested in settling down and sharing my life with any of them. Until I met the man who changed my life.
The details of our courtship are fairly unremarkable – a workplace based flirtation, leading to a drunken shag after the Christmas party, followed soon by ‘I love you’, ‘let’s move in together’, ‘can we get a cat?’, and, after two and a bit years, ‘will you marry me?’ (in reality, that last bit was ‘i’d be happy to marry you if you like’ via SMS… but it’s my blog and I’ll embellish if I want to). So now I find myself in the unlikely position of being an engaged person – and I couldn’t be happier.
I catch myself staring stupidly at my beautiful sapphire and diamond engagement ring several times a day, spend hours trawling through wedding related websites, and have become obsessed with finding ‘the perfect’ dress/location/flowers/shoes and other things I would have derided others for being hopelessly girly about a mere three years ago.
I was once the girl most unlikely to get married, now I can’t wait to walk down the aisle (once I’ve found the perfect red carpet).