- 7 years ago
- Wedding: July 2013
I’m just going to cut straight to the chase and tell you that this is going to be long. I apologize for that in advance. I’ll try and break it up into managable portions for those of you who are willing to read it.
I’m in a quandry of emotional stress, frustration, anger and hurt. Before I get started, let me throw out there that Im 18 and I’m married. I’m sure there are other bees out there who have been married this young as well. It’s just that almost everyone who meets me is fine knowing that I’m married, because I tend to act older than I am. but when they find out that I’m 18 they always have to say something derogatory about it. I definitely realize why people think that I’m too young at first reaction. Before we were married people would tell me things like “you know, you don’t have to get married right now”, or “you’re so young, you should live a little”. People don’t ever seem to understand that this is living to me. I heard a quote once that said “when you find the person you want to spend the rest of your life with, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible”. This is definitely true for me.
This post was going to include a few issues that I’d appreciate some feedback on, but instead I decided to keep it to this one for this post. I can make another thread for the other issue(s). This story is so crazy, I promise I’m not a troll. But if I was reading this and was anyone else, I would have a hard time believing it.
My story starts about a year and a half ago. I began a relationship with one of our closest friends. Literally, me and my siblings grew up with him. I was adopted, and on the video of when I got off the plane, his entire family was there with my family to pick me up. His mom was my mom’s best friend. His sister is my best friend. He was my brother’s closest friend. Needless to say, it wasn’t completely random.
Both of us were serious from the beginning about where the relationship was going to go.
Because he lived so far away (about an hour and a half to two hours), my parents would invite him down to stay weekends at the house, and let him sleep on an inflatable matress on the living room floor so that we could get more time to know each other. Things were amazing, and we became so in love. We were always chaperoned by either my brothers or my parents, and what was pretty strange was that my parents were extremely strict about physical contact between us. He couldn’t have his arm around me, hugging was frowned upon and we couldn’t hold hands until we were engaged because my mom was worried about what people might think. If they saw us holding hands, they might think we were too physical, apparently. We were not allowed to date until I turned 18, which I was fine with. Also, it was explicitly stated that nothing would change– he was still my brother’s friend and I was sort of just there as a third friend or third wheel. I was 17 at the time.
So fastforward to the next year in April of this year, he proposed to me on my 18th birthday. This wasn’t unexpected, because both of our families as well as us and all our friends could see that we were heading very steadily in that direction. I know it sounds quick, but as I said we had been very close to him for at least my whole life, and so we already knew him well.
When he initally talked to my parents about going out with me, they wanted him to propose to me right away. My mom even came to me after they were done talking to take my ring size. We decided we wanted to wait, which my parents seemed to understand, because you can’t really match the magic of being proposed to in a free setting– rather than being proposed to because my parents said they wanted it to happen right then. So it’s not like they didn’t want us to get married.
So we were engaged, something that my parents seemed very supportive of. At first.
To explain something rather quickly, my husband is still in school, but went in the Marines right out of highschool. Because of them paying for his college as well as sending him checks every month on top of him getting well paid internships, he is making a nice, livable sum of money. As per my parent’s request, we drafted up a budget of how to use the money to prove to them it would be ok. We even factored in if we had a baby before we planned to, and we still would have been (and are) completely financially fine.
My parents still didn’t want us to get married until when he graduted, later in 2015 and wouldn’t hear otherwise.
We tried talking to my parents about getting married sooner. They had expressed displeasure about not being kept updated, so after much debate, we decided to tell them that we wanted to, knowing that the longer we waited, the more upset they’d have the chance to be. So we made the decision to tell them, and unfortunately it was Mother’s day. This was a mistake, but we didn’t know what else to do. Even though we never did anything special, and even though at the time my parents told us that it was the right thing to do (talk to them right away about it), my mom would hold onto that for the remainder of our story as a deliberate slap in the face to her to ruin her day.
Thing started getting very tense. My mother didn’t want to do any wedding planning with me. It was like pulling teeth to try and get her interested. We did finally manage to go dress shopping, and even find my dress. It was beautiful. Even though we were engaged, my parents said he and I were still just friends, and that they “allowed” us to get engaged. They said that I was still immature and that she wasn’t finished raising me yet. There were no efforts made to further “raise” me. No intensified training in the kitchen even, nothing. Just that she wasn’t finished raising me yet, end of story.
Things began getting very tense with my brother, whose literal only friend was my fiance. Things have always been tense with him. It was one of those sibling relationships where my parents always sided with him, and would blame things on me when it wasn’t my fault. When we were little, he would brag to me and my other sibling about how we should be careful, because he can twist anything and get us in trouble for it.
(**To describe how the relationship between my parents, my brother and myself, one day I was at work. I forgot my phone (an inforgivable offense when it happened to me, even though I worked five minutes from the house. When it would happen to my brother, my parents would laugh and shake their heads). He insisted I borrow his. He comes in at lunch rush, and asks me to swap phones with him. I’m busy and the only one working, so I tell him lightheartedly while gesturing to the line that I don’t have a minute (obviously) just then. I rush to get done with a customer, and when I turn around to tell him I’ll go get his phone, he’s gone. I forget about it.
Two days later, my parents say we have to talk. It turns out (my brother is 29 btw) that he had gone home, and complained about it to them. Apparently he had assumed that I had his phone in my pocket, when it was in the back room in my purse, and that I was slighting him by not handing it right over. I didn’t know that he assumed that, but apparently not explaining to him that I didn’t have the phone in my pocket (because he didn’t tell me in the first place that that’s what he thought), it was a sign of deep subconscious disrespect to my brother.**)
Because of the tension between my brother and I becoming intensified, my parents decided that it was because of my fiance being around so much. Initially they told us that my brothers wouldn’t chaperone us anymore, but they would. Then they decided that we would see each other much less frequently, so to “reconnect” with me. (My family has never been close at all, so saying we need to reconnect is absurd).
So moving on, my fiance and I began premarital advising at our church as per my parents request, and it had great promise. We discussed with our pastor what was going on, how my parents weren’t being as supportive as we hoped they would be.
I cannot describe to you how hard it was to fight them on this. The harder we fought, the harder things became. The stress and tension was unbelievable. My parents told me that in the grand scheme of things 2 years to get married wasn’t a long time. 5 years wasn’t a long time. Neither was 10. This was so hard to hear, especially because there was no reason we couldn’t get married sooner other than they didn’t believe we would be ok and that they weren’t ready to let go yet.
During one of our talks, I was trying to explain to my mother that by going to them on Mother’s day we were just trying to do what they would want us to do, to which she informed me that “there IS no *WE*!!”. Also, when they found out that we had discussed what form of birth control we’d use after we were married, they were outraged. They said it was extremely inappropriate and that I should have been discussing it with them, not with him.
Because things had gotten so tense, we had made plans to get married even if they didn’t come around.
This is where it gets hard to talk about for me.
Things had gotten very sexually tense for us, and both of us were waiting until marriage. Dry humping is not something that I’m proud to have done, but we lost control and gave in to it a few times. On July 6th, my parents walked in on us doing it on the floor.
What happened next was a nightmare.
My parents threw him out of the house. For the next few weeks, they pressed me to dump him. I told them from the get go that I was going to leave– it was my only option. They told me that if I left, they would be dead to me and I would be dead to them. My dad said he hoped he’s sterile. They told me that he doesn’t want me to succeed in life because he was anxious when I got my first job interview (hoping that it went well). My mom said that he will never be faithful to me, and that there’s no way he was a virgin (which he was until the night of our wedding). She told me he’d get jealous and beat me if I talked to other men, and if I ever tried to leave the home we’d have together.
My dad pressed me to just admit that I’m not a Christian anymore. They told him that they’d tell everyone what he did if he tried contacting me. My mom sent a letter to his parents and started a written countdown clock on a blackboard on the wall: one for the days that we hadn’t heard from him in and one for the days that his parents hadn’t contacted us.
For the record, there has been bad blood between his parents and my parents for over six years. My inlaws are amazing people, by the way.
The reason he hadnt’ contacted me was because he went to our pastor and was told to stay away from me and give it space. My parents told me that it was because he was a coward and that he probably didnt’ even want me anymore.
How wrong they were. In the meantime, he was printing off 10′ by 3′ banners telling me he still loved me and that he’d get me out of there if it’s what I still wanted, driving the 1.5 hours down, wading through thick woods to get to the horse fields behind my parents yard (not their property), and getting ready to hold them up with a spotlight so I would know he was still waiting for me. I swear I’m not making it up. The man loves me beyond what I thought was possible.
I told them repeatedly that I was going to leave, I was going to marry him. They told me that I couldn’t wear white to my wedding.
They told my pastor that we never planned on finishing the counseling, and that it was just part of a facade we were putting up to make people think what our relationship was honorable. It *was* honorable. We just wanted to get married as soon as we could, and we made a mistake letting things go too far.
They made me write apology letters to them and my brothers. They wanted me to write one to my pastor for decieving him, but I wouldn’t because we didn’t.
I became suicidal. I didn’t eat for three days, and I almost swallowed 40 aspirins, which I wasn’t sure would work anyway so I didn’t. My mother said that she didn’t deserve that, and that we’d have to work something else out because it wasn’t fair to her.
They cut off my internet access, which is fine. I didn’t pay for it, so access in the first place was a privilige. They wouldn’t let me pay for my own phone. My parents told me that I couldn’t talk to him in the house anyway, and that I’d have to go to the library. When I wanted to walk there, my mother told me she’d only let me if she was able to come and watch me the entire time that I talked to him. I wasn’t allowed to walk to work unless my brother followed me there in the car.
Finally, my father in law came down to my place of work and gave me a portable gaming device so that I could contact my fiance, who was just as distraught as I was.
After a 5 hour marathon of being pressured to dump him and being told that he was no good (this was becoming quite normal, I was getting these 5+ hour pressure sessions almost daily), I snapped and I told my fiance to pick me up.
The pressure session ended at around midnight and they drove down at one in the morning. With the aid of the police they got me out of there, and I went to stay at my inlaw’s house until we got married at the end of that month.
Bees, there is so much more stuff that I could tell you, but I think this communicates it fairly well. Now I’m getting mail from my parents talking about how much they love me and how much they miss me. Almost like they didn’t say any of those terrible things at all. Like they’ve been horribly wronged and I’m the prodical child they’ve always been right there for. My mother even posted on her facebook when I left and what time, where people could reach me and that I was living with him at his parents house. I wasn’t, I was living there but he had moved out so to avoid the same issue we had before, as well as the critique of the public, until we were married.
I’m having a horrible time coping with how our wedding was ruined and how this whole thing happened. Our wedding was ruined, but our marriage was not. I married an amazing man who goes outside of all the negative male stereotypes. I know he’s not perfect, but neither am I. All I know is that I couldn’t have picked a better man to spend the rest of my life with. I don’t regret marrying him, I regret how it happened.
What I can’t believe is that they don’t even acknowledge any wrong on their part. Just that they love and miss me so much.
It’s like it didn’t even happen.