“Walk yourself,” my mother laughed. “I guess that’s what happens when you marry a nobody.” So I did. I tightened my grip around my bouquet and walked down the aisle alone, listening to my parents whisper about how “tiny” and “humiliating” my wedding was. They had no idea who was seated in those rows. When the doors opened and the mayor rose to his feet, followed by a senator and my superintendent, my parents finally stopped laughing—and understood exactly who their “nobody” actually was…..
The first time I imagined my wedding day, I was eight years old, sitting cross-legged on my pink bedroom carpet, cutting pictures out of bridal magazines my mother had finished …
“Walk yourself,” my mother laughed. “I guess that’s what happens when you marry a nobody.” So I did. I tightened my grip around my bouquet and walked down the aisle alone, listening to my parents whisper about how “tiny” and “humiliating” my wedding was. They had no idea who was seated in those rows. When the doors opened and the mayor rose to his feet, followed by a senator and my superintendent, my parents finally stopped laughing—and understood exactly who their “nobody” actually was….. Read More