by Charlotte Louise Nystrom

Created on: November 04, 2011   Last Updated: November 11, 2011

I no longer wanted to get married, but I could not find the courage to call off the wedding. I hinted at the topic but I never said it out loud. In fact, this is the first time I have openly confessed my secret. I wish I had managed to find the strength to call off the wedding.

Everything suddenly seemed to have changed. He was no longer the person I had fallen in love with. Done with trying to impress, we let our guards down. Discovering that he was not the positive, outgoing, man that I had believed in. It should have been a signal. I looked to him to lift me up, but instead he was constantly dragging my spirits low to the floor. Yet, I continued down that path. 

Dresses, flowers, and decorations had already been bought. The cake was ordered and invitations sent out. A slew of family and friends were all buying outfits, taking time off work, and otherwise making plans to attend. In less than a month, I would be married, whether I was ready or not. Everyone gets cold feet, don’t they?

I was never all that involved in the wedding planning. Once a date was chosen the train just continued roaring along. I did little things, added to the guest list, made a few small decorations, and bought a dress. I chose the first one I tried on, pressured by the saleswoman’s compliments and bored with the idea of trying on dress after dress. 

Funny, as a teenager my Uncle always said of boys, never take the first that comes along. Maybe men and wedding dresses have more in common than I thought.

The wedding itself was a letdown. Perhaps this should have been another sign. We did not have booze so guests left early. I mean really early, as in we were nearly the last to leave, not the first. Too much time was wasted on photos that I did not want. After the first few minutes, I was begging to go talk with the guests. Many of whom I had not seen and years, but alas, I was told no. Why have pictures without memories?

Within a month, I silently began to feel resentment for my family and friends. Why didn’t they warn me? How come no one mentioned that I might not be ready for such a commitment. Why didn’t anyone ask are you sure he is the one? After all, we had only met a mere seven months prior. 

By the end of the first year, I had convinced myself that I was strong enough to stick it out. We were no longer intimate. Despite a generous salary, he made excuses about money and the time not being right for having kids or buying a home; two things I wished

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