A Love Story

Disclaimer: I refer to husband as MC in this story.  MC = Mr. Charming.  I was going to do PC for Prince Charming, but then that makes me Princess Charming, and no me gusta.  But he is my Prince Charming, so maybe one day I'll use it.  ANYWAYS, husband doesn't want to be famous, so though you'll find an occasional picture of him, any will probably learn his name in very old posts, going forward, I am referring to him as MC or PC.  I guess that makes me Mrs. Charming. 

I believe in God. I believe He writes my story better than I ever could. Even though I may try (and fail), He is always there, pen in hand. Here is my story to share with you.  It is long, I'll work on shortening it. =)

Chapter One 

I had two serious relationships in high school.  I met Boy #1 in an eighth grade science class.  Our teacher assigned our seats next to each other and I just knew him and I would be something special one day.  It was a bumpy road, but we did end up dating on-and-off for five years.  He was my first kiss under the moon and the stars.  I was "madly in love."

The honest truth is: we were a bad couple.  I have no idea why we lasted as long as we did.  We would fight and temper tantrums.  We had very little in common.  I was, however, very much in love with his family. 

During this time, I had become good friends with Boy #2.  Both boys were best friends because they were on the same soccer team, but Boy #2 and I were also attending the same school together (I had transferred, leaving Boy #1 at another school).  Unfortunately, somewhere during the course of our friendship, we had developed feelings for each other (for the record, this was during a break between Boy #1 and I and, contrary to rumors circulating around my school, this was after he had broken up with his longtime girlfriend -- a girl who I had greatly admired).

Relationship with Boy #2 was awesome. We talked all the time, went on two vacations together with his family, we rarely fought, and were definitely in "puppy love." For Valentine's Day, he made me a mixed tape and wrote me poems and I thought it was the best thing in the world.

Deep down, though, I knew I wasn't happy. Everything up to that point in my life was operating on a superficial level and I realized I couldn't be happy in a relationship until I was happy with myself. You see, friends, I hadn't been single since 7th grade (it was my junior year in high school at this point) and I barely knew who I was much less what a healthy, functioning relationship looked like.  So, I broke up with him and it was an incredibly hard experience for me because I felt very alone.  But, it was the best thing for me.

After my high school graduation with my parents.

Chapter Two

I swore off boys. I committed to focusing on myself, finishing high school, and preparing for my future.  That was the plan and I was pretty darn successful.  I stopped turning down offers to go on retreats and I started opening my heart to what God was telling me. Thanksgiving of my Senior year I was Confirmed in the Catholic Church.  I was finally starting to be happy and I was discovering how to do so without external things, like relationships with boys.  To be honest, I was so high on life that it was amazing. I learned a lot about myself, my life, my future, and I had developed a wonderful friendship with Jesus. 

My senior year I had applied to at least a dozen different universities. I had no idea what I wanted. You see, what I really wanted was to give a year to the Church, something called being a co-worker, but it wasn't in the plan. So, I just couldn't make up my mind for university. I even went to talk to some recruiters, since I had wanted to be in the navy since I was a little girl. My first acceptance letter came from my first choice and it even included a partial scholarship for writing. I was so excited. There was a catch, though: the university was Louisiana State University and I lived in Atlanta, Georgia, a good 524 miles away.  Even with a partial tuition break, it was still a lot of money, plus my mom didn't want me to go that far away (I also didn't have a car at the time).

My mom had fallen in love with Georgia College and State University in Milledgeville, Georgia. She loved the old, Southern buildings on the beautiful, green campus. She felt I needed a liberal arts education and she loved the school so much that she joked that she wished we could trade places so that she could attend there. Reluctantly, especially since I was so undecided anyways, I enrolled in GCSU as a psychology major. 

I entered college motivated to make it a productive, healthy experience.  I made the decision that it was a priority to be active in the Catholic student organization, called Campus Catholics at GCSU. It was there, that I had made a great set of friends whom some of which I am still in touch with today.

At the Campus Catholics fall retreat, 2008.

Chapter Three

As I was deepening my relationship with God, I felt a need to do something that I wasn't expecting.  I felt the need to transfer universities and return home.  I still can't explain the 180 degree change, but it was what was going on in my heart and mind.  I applied to Georgia State University and was accepted. 

Two weekends before Halloween, Campus Catholics had a fall retreat planned and I was scheduled to go. I was waiting outside my dorm room for my ride to the retreat (from a girl who is now my bridesmaid) and I remember sitting their thinking "how can I get out of this?"  For some reason, I did not want to go.  I have no idea why, but something inside of me really did not want to go.  I even considered doing something awful like pretending I was sick.  But, I convinced myself to not lie and that I needed to go.  Boy, was that a great decision.

We arrived late (because we had left later than everyone else due to our schedules and stopping to get something to eat, then got a little lost because it was now nighttime).  When we finally made it, a talk had already started and we all had to quickly find seats.  I plopped down on the floor in the front, right in front of this boy that I had never met.  That night, before bed, we all stayed up to play some card games and board games (the cabin was full of them!).  I have no recollection of who else was there, because everyone else was a blurry haze because it was the first time I met MC, that boy I plopped down in front of and who was forced to look at my back the whole time (and knowing me, I was fidgeting a lot).  I remember my outgoing self was teaching him out to play a card game and all of the sudden someone said, "Did you know he's from Zimbabwe?"  I couldn't tell if they were serious or not, because I am a gullible person.  I was like "really?"  This kid had no idea I knew what Zimbabwe was, because, heck, not many people know.  Well, I knew because it was a country that we studied when I was in high school doing Model United Nations.  I have always been obsessed with different cultures, so my twenty questions began.

Over the course of the weekend, we got to know each other very well.  We talked about what we were studying, our families, and our faith.  When we got on to the topic of the sacrament of Confirmation, I shared with him how it was the absolute best day of my life (up to that point at least; today, I would have to say it is me attending Mass in St. Peter's Basilica).  I blabbered on about my testimony, and apparently it struck him because he decided that weekend to get Confirmed (and so he did with a good buddy of his, someone who is also a groomsman of his). Overall though, it was an amazing weekend: filled with adoration, Mass, motivating talks, Confession, and so many conversations between myself, God, and amazing people.  I am glad I stuck with my commitment and went.

Inside St. Peter's Basilica in Vatican City, August 2011.

Chapter Four

After that weekend, the thought of this boy kept creeping in to my head.  Not knowing that it's usually not "normal" for a member of the opposite genders to be a Confirmation sponsor, he asked me through a Facebook message if I would "consider" being his (yes, I do have this message saved because it still makes me smile to this day).  I said "yes," sticking to my guns that I was swearing off boys and that it would be nice to have a male friend who is an actively practicing Catholic (plus we both had the same circle of friends anyways).

Over the course of a month, our circle of friends became even closer, especially over Halloween weekend.  I was secretly trying to suppress my feelings for MC because (A) I didn't want them, (B) I wasn't looking for a romantic relationship, (C) I was now committed to helping bring him in to the Church, and (D) I was a little scared.  Our mutual friend, Katie, had suggested one day that him and I get closer since I was moving back in a month to Atlanta to go to GSU and since MC would be transferring 6-8 months later to another school in the Atlanta area known for architecture and engineering.  It was then, with her, in the middle of an ice cream shop, that I pathetically had my very first panic attack.

Now, I have such vivid memories of the following that I can't wait to share it with you.  I am skipping ahead a little bit to try to shorten this as much as possible.  On a Friday night, a few of us decided to go to Adoration.  MC asked if we could get together afterwards because we often all talked about religion, the Church history, and various aspects of it, and he wanted to sit down with me in order to do so since he was getting Confirmed and had questions.  I agreed.  So, after Adoration, him and I headed back to the "boys' house" as we called it.  Unaware of what was taking place, he randomly stood up, asked if it was raining, went to look outside, told me to get my shoes because we should go for a walk. And we did, in fact, go for a walk, my friends.  Halfway through it, the topic of "us" came up.  As we made it back to his house, we sat on the famous porch swing and decided that we would "see what happened," that we would put Jesus first, and that we would be open and honest with each other.  Since he knew that I was leaving GCSU, I don't think either of us was expecting much.

One week later, on November 21, 2008 (the date our Church celebrates the Presentation of Mary!) we went on our first date: to see the first installment of the Twilight series, to pick up some Arby's (at the same location and at the same time my Matron of Honor was working there!!), and head back to the boys' house to join some friends.  Quick note: we saw Twilight because I did read the book and wanted to see it and he was being such a great sport; and we got Arby's because we had to get back to join friends and I really was craving some -- it was not because he was cheap!

We met each other's families within a month of the first date and I was way too head over heals.  By January/February, I told a good friend of mine that I thought he was "the one."  Though, things definitely weren't perfect.  I had a lot of trust issues and was way too head strong because I didn't want to go down the paths I went down with Boy #1 and Boy #2.  It took several months for me to open up completely and once I did, he became my very best friend.

My birthday dinner, just under 24 hours after the proposal.

Chapter Five

Two Christmases, six birthdays, one family vacation, one graduation, and two one-year anniversaries, MC coordinated a birthday present I will never forget.  We had spent the past few days with his family since his Aunt and Uncle were in town from Zimbabwe.  We, however, had to leave them early to head back to Atlanta because we already purchased tickets for a showing of Casablanca featuring the Atlanta Symphony Orchestra.  I have always wanted to go to the orchestra and, since we got a great deal on tickets via Groupon, we went as my pre-birthday celebration.  It was so good!  Even MC said he enjoyed it (that means a lot!).  Afterwards, he asked if I wanted my birthday presents that night or the following day (my actual birthday).  Since we both were busy on my birthday -- early morning Mass (my birthday falls on the feast day of Mount Carmel so I like to celebrate by going to Mass), breakfast with my parents, lunch with my parents, MC had lunch with his family separately (in which I don't think I saw him until maybe 5-6pm that night), then dinner outing with friends -- I decided to open them that night.  So, he went to "get" them.  I finally found him down on one knee (IN A SUIT!!!), with my ring.  It was perfect.  It was exactly what I wanted: nothing extravagant, but something very personal.  Once again, I said "yes" to him.  We had been discerning our vocation for marriage for several months prior to this point, so I was already very much prepared to make it official.

An Engagement picture

Chapter Six

On Saturday, June 16, 2012, we said our "I Do's" in front of our nearest and dearest.  It was such a beautiful wedding weekend from start to finish and we felt truly blessed. 

Jeffrey Franks Photography

A Lesson Learned

People often ask why I'm "not excited" or why I "don't like to talk about MC" and there are many reasons why.  First off, is I don't like to "brag" about the fact that I have a significant other if the person I'm talking to doesn't.  Secondly, a lot of it has to do with the fact that I am not necessarily pro-dating, pro-getting married, etc in the sense that I am pretty young.  While I was single I discovered so much about myself: it's when my passion for photography really flourished and my relationship with God was at it's highest.  There are so many advantages to being single that I feel like sometimes women (and men!) don't give themselves the opportunity to embrace it because are so caught up with finding "Mr. Right" or even "Mr. Right Now" because they hate being "alone." I would be a much different person had I met MC right after Boy #2 and I guarantee there would be differences if I met MC in five or ten years.  

I often tell my friends when this conversation comes up to enjoy the time they are having being an independent, single woman because it is a precious gift to yourself and to your future spouse and family.  What you learn and discover is something that you will only experience as a single woman in this world and will help define you for your future.

I am by no means saying I regret my relationship with MC, but I would have made a lot of different decisions had I not had him as a priority in my life these past few years.  I am not sure who I would be today had I been single all this time, I maybe would have gotten around to doing some of the things I planned to do.  I can't tell you how my life would be if I had met MC ten years from now instead of over three years ago.  But God chose a different path for me, one that is definitely infinitely better.  Knowing that I had many plans, MC was worried that he was holding me back.  You know what I told him?  I said that:

Sure, I'd love to be a navy nurse and travel the world, maybe spend a few months in various countries absorbing the culture.  Of course I plan on getting my master's and eventually my Ph.D. and work in a research lab.  One of my dreams is to work for the Centers of Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) in Atlanta and maybe travel the world as an epidemiologist.  And, unfortunately, all of these things don't include a significant other.  But, at the end of my life, I'll be perfectly wonderful with never having done all of these if it meant having you still by my side.

You see, God created me with MC in mind.  He is wonderful man and God knew exactly what I needed in a counterpart.  He just gave him to me a little bit earlier than I wanted, but I don't regret a single day with him in my life.

I believe God had created you with someone in mind and has every intention of presenting them to you at the right moment.  Some people need a little bit more single time, I apparently didn't.  I learned so much during that it was time for another human being to start grounding me, bringing me back to reality (I was living in the clouds way too much, my friends; though, I still do, but so do MC a little bit!), and start teaching me new lessons.  And that is something that is a constant, beautiful thing in our relationship.

Every relationship has something to teach us, but we must begin with ourselves.