I didn’t grow up imagining what my wedding would look like. But I did always assume I would get married.
I was lucky enough to have had a happy, fairly conventional childhood. I grew up in a small town in upstate New York in a traditional family of four, with parents who’ve now been married for 36 years. From my limited perspective, that’s just what adults did: they got married.
When I met Tom, or rather met him again, I was nearing 30 and starting to lose faith in my assumption about getting married. After four years of many, many failed attempts at forming a romantic relationship out of the desperate game that is dating in New York City, I was starting to feel like I was never going to find a boyfriend, much less a husband.
Tom and I had worked together for three years at Scientific American