Gown on, guests waiting…groom missing
Who better to love me than myself?
Scrolling through the online jewellery shop, a delicate, gold band caught my eye. It’s still there, I thought, thrilled. It was July 2018 and I’d spotted the beautiful ring five years earlier.
Back then, I couldn’t justify the £150 price tag. But now, I finally had a reason.
My left ring finger was achingly bare – and that’s exactly where my new ring was going.
Because, after all this time, I’d finally found The One I wanted to marry…me! I know it sounds mad. I’d always imagined having a lavish wedding to the man of my dreams, followed by a long and happy marriage.
But things hadn’t worked out that way.
A year earlier, after splitting from my partner of over six years, I’d dated a string of men who, truth be told, didn’t treat me well. So I’d made a promise to put myself first.
Two weeks later, my ring arrived.
Pulling out my phone, I took a bunch of silly selfies of me proposing to myself – open-mouthed in surprise!
A magical moment. Then I posted one of my left hand on Instagram, the elegant band winding around my finger in a rosebud design.
I realised I am The One, I wrote, with the hashtag #engagedtomyself.
It was just a bit of fun.
But my friends loved the idea, and it snowballed.
‘When’s the ceremony?’ one of them asked me, excitedly.
‘That’s not happening!’ I laughed.
But when I told my friends Kat, 24, and Cheyenne, 26, they agreed.
‘Why not? We want to celebrate you!’ Kat said.
‘Get planning now!’ Cheyenne encouraged.
After all the heartache, I deserved a celebration.
And what better way than to tie the knot – with myself!
So I sent out ‘save the dates’ for 11 November – which is my lucky number.
Some people struggled to understand, so I was selective with my guest list, choosing those who’d bring positivity to the occasion, not judgement.
I invited 15 close friends, and my sister Jessica, 29,
Everyone cheered and showered me with hugs
who offered to make my wedding cake.
I decided not to invite my parents or brother.
They loved me, but they’re also traditional Catholics and I didn’t want them to feel uncomfortable.
Then I picked out a beautiful cream skirt with matching corset, and a lovely, white shirt with ruffled sleeves to wear underneath.
Next I picked a venue. A friend suggested her parents’ flat – a beautiful, elegant penthouse overlooking Central Park in New York. ‘Perfect!’ I gasped. When I woke up on the morning of my big day, the nerves kicked in. But I’d come too far to get cold feet now!
Jessica did my hair and make-up, and Cheyenne put the final touches to my outfit with a handmade flower crown.
Kat officiated the ceremony, and Cheyenne read the poem Desiderata, which meant a lot to me.
And as I stood at the front of the room, a shiver ran down my spine.
This was itÉ
It took seven minutes to read my vows to myself.
‘I promise to do what
I need to be happy, and to respect and love myself forever,’ I said.
It was emotional. Looking around the room, I spotted friends wiping tears.
Then I placed a second ring – made of rare wood adorned with fern – on my finger.
‘With this ring, I me wed!’ I giggled.
Everyone cheered and showered me with hugs.
More friends joined us at a bar for the afterparty.
Of course, it wasn’t a legal ceremony.
But it was just as special, and was everything that I’d ever imagined.
When people spot my rings they assume I’m married. They just don’t realise to whom!
I’ve not ruled out relationships and, if the right man came along I’d be open to another wedding.
But so far I’ve been 100% faithful to myself.
I know some people won’t understand – and that’s OK.
Marrying myself might seem far-fetched, but everyone should vow to treat themselves better. And there’s no-one more perfect for me, than me.
I’m all
I’ll ever need.