Reader, I married him

Blog Post 16

Reader, I married him

I got married to my long-time boyfriend/fiancé a couple weeks ago.

It was a beautiful ceremony and reception.  Very simple.  We were married in a National Park with a few close family members and friends.  And a dog.  We held the wedding and reception in an old Civilian Conservation Corps pavilion.  So, it didn’t just look rustic; it truly was.  It was a cool day and we had two big fires in the stone fireplaces to keep us all warm.

My father was not invited or even told about the wedding.

It was a huge decision, because there is no going back from that one.  He would notice that he wasn’t invited.  Other extended family members would find out, too.  He’s not in any wedding photos because he wasn’t there.  He’s conspicuously absent.

I feel really great about it.

Not having him there allowed me to enjoy the day and the people that were there, the people that we wanted to be there.  I didn’t have to worry about him somehow making the event about him.  I didn’t have to worry about him behaving inappropriately with the women (and young girl) that were there.  I didn’t have to suffer through the sick feeling that I get every time I see him.

I got to enjoy the people that I truly love and not put on this stupid façade of respect for my father.  I don’t respect him.

Not having him there, I had so much less stress and anxiety.  I’m not afraid of what anyone thinks anymore.  I care about myself.  As I should.