Six years ago today, I was hovered over a toilet, puking my guts out, for the fourth time.

I’m not Methodist, yet here I was in this Methodist church, overwhelmed by emotions and dry heaves.

What was I doing in this church? What was I doing with my fucking life? Why did I suddenly think I needed a man? I was fine… fine with just me and my little man, Lars.

I must have retouched my make-up 65 times that morning.

I put on my dress, and everything became even more real.

Much to everyone’s surprise, especially my own, I was about to get married.

Damn us. Damn Shaun Soleau for asking me. And damn me for accepting. And damn all of these people who actually showed up to see if I’d go through with it.

After all, this wasn’t my first engagement.

The dress felt very constricting. Mentally… it was suffocating me. The dress represented the end of me. The dress was a big, poofy, beaded, extensive… fun stopper.

It was the end of the coolest chick I had met in my life – Meredith Ludwig.

I could barely even take a photo with my mom because I just wanted to run. I didn’t want to do this anymore. What felt like a responsible idea, suddenly felt like a lifetime of regrets. What if he hurt me? What if I hurt him? It was too much.

I liked being independent and doing as I pleased, when I pleased.

My mom and dad, who knew me better than anyone, saw that I was flipping the fuck out, and tried to calm me down the best they could. My mom was feeding me (and herself – this was the first time she had ever drank) copious amounts of alcohol, and my dad was trying to rationalize with me.

The only thing that even got me down the aisle that day were my dad’s stern words of wisdom  “I spent a lot of damn money on this wedding, and you’re going to do this. Shaun is a good man. Lars needs him, and you need him more. You’re getting married today, young lady.”

As a matter of fact, below is a photo of that exact moment. You can truly see the fear on both of our faces. I had just said to him, as we stood at the end of the aisle, “I really can’t do this, Dad. I am not the marrying type. I’m not like Mom.”

With a forceful push from my dad, I made it to Shaun, who was smiling and happy.

Why wasn’t Shaun nervous? And with one look at him, my nerves subsided, and I knew this was right. I knew he was right.

I cried the whole time. He was perfect for me. I didn’t have to pretend with him. He knew where I had been, and what I had done, and he loved me anyway.

He was the first person I had ever truly trusted with my heart.

My dad was right. I needed Shaun.

I’d probably be in a gutter, cold and shivering, and crying for my mommy if it weren’t for Shaun.

Thank you, Dad, for not allowing me to run.

And thank you, Shaun Soleau, for turning me into the “marrying type”.

Thank you for making me Meredith Soleau (Meredith Ludwig’s way cooler persona). 

Happy Anniversary, Husband. 

XXXXXXX,

Wife

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