The ‘M’ word

He asked... she said yes blackboard

I was never the kind of little girl who dreamt of getting married. If you had asked me what kind of dress I wanted, summer or winter, town or the country, I would probably have looked at you blankly. There were so many more interesting things to think about like whether Frodo would ever be able to part from the ring. Besides some small part of me worried that thinking about it in too great a detail would be tempting fate.

But this was Before The Boy. I had had my suspicions, of course. When he turned up for our first date unshaved in a stained T shirt I thought it was charming. When he sat down for dinner and he ate his starter, a quarter of my starter, his main, half of my main and then ordered a pudding I thought it was funny. I was in love.

But it was OK, I was still me. Just me in love with him. Nothing had changed except that I knew far more about Star Wars collectables than I ever wanted to. Very early on in our relationship, as The Boy reminds me constantly, I stated I couldn’t really see the point of marriage. But that was Before the Boy

Seven years later my feelings had changed. Although my rational side argued that there was no point as marriage would not alter our commitment to each other,  I knew deep down that I wanted to get married to The Boy. Luckily he felt the same!

So after ambivalent beginnings, I’ve been shocked by how interested I am in all the little details. In order not to bore all my friends, I must warn this blog is going to be full of all my ramblings about the search for the perfect dress, flowers, cake. And I fully expect only my mum and mother-in-law-to-be will be interested.

As I write this there are 442 days until W-day. So much to do, so little time…

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