Karen Valentin - The Mother God Made Me to Be

With tremendous gratitude to:

My family and friends, who have loved me through it all.

Pastor Taylor Field and my church family at Graffiti Church, who showed me the kind of woman I want to become.

Adrienne Ingrum, whose friendship and mentoring for over ten years has changed my life. Thank you for believing in my voice and giving it a place to live.

My sons, Brandon and Tyler, the greatest love, joy, and inspiration in my life.

W hy do you want to marry me? my fianc asked. I gripped the phone tighter and almost lost my breath. It was the morning of our wedding. My hair was in curlers, my white dress hung on the door, and my family bustled about in my sisters house, getting ready for the big event.

I stepped outside with the phone. It was a beautiful day, perfect for a wedding. Why are you asking me that, Gavin?

His response sent a wave of nausea through my body. Im at a crossroads here, he said.

My sister Diane poked her head out.

Lisas ready to do your hair.

One sec, I said, waving her off as I walked farther away from the door. I tried to speak into the phone, but I paused. I felt like a game show contestant ready to lose a million dollars and a trip to Tahiti if I gave the wrong answer. But this was my life on the linethe life Id envisioned with him.

What are you doing to me? How dare you! How dare you do this to me right now! Those were the words I really wanted to say, but I was the one who didnt dare.

Because, I said, I cant imagine my life without you in it. I see my future in you, I can see our kids well have one day in you, and because I love you. Thats why.

He said a quiet Okay, and I hung up the phone not knowing if hed show up that day.

I held it in. I didnt tell a soul. I let my thoughts swirl around inside like a growing storm as everyone around me lit up, growing in their excitement for the wedding. We piled into cars to head over to the venue.

I should call off the wedding even if he does show up, I thought as I sat in the back of the car, looking blankly at the cloudless sky. This is no way to start a marriage.

We arrived and everything was lovely. Delicate flowers of cream and wine adorned each table. Just outside, the veranda was beautifully decorated, and the arch where we were to exchange our vows was covered in lilies. I willed my tears not to come.

Isnt it so pretty, my mother said, taking it all in.

Yes. I smiled.

Diane was holding the large garment bag with my dress inside.

Lets go upstairs, she said. You dont want Gavin to see you before the ceremony.

My sister and mother walked me into the bridal room. Champagne and cheese and fruit platters covered a small table. My oldest sister, Tilza, who had driven in from Vermont, burst through the door in excitement.

There she is, she gushed, hugging me tight. You already look so beautiful!

Little by little the room filled. As each of my loved ones entered, there was an outpouring of love for me. Their sweet affection weighed on my heart as I imagined their joyful faces transformed into pity.

Gavins sister peeked her head through the door. Were here, she squealed. Are you guys almost ready?

The noise and bustle in the room seemed to stop as I focused only on her.

Hes here?

Yeah, he rode with us, she said casually between a kiss and hug for my mother.

All the tension in my shoulders relaxed. The storm of thoughts stopped swirling in my head and settled down into two words: cold feet. That was all it was. Cold feet.

I dipped into the cheese and fruit platters. My appetite was back.

My friend sat me down to do my makeup, and soon it was time for Diane to help me into my dress. It was beautiful. Not what Id originally wanted, but Diane had insisted I try it on.

I would have been happy with a plain white dress from Macys. Im not a princess, I had argued at the bridal shop. Ive never dreamed of being a princess.

This is your wedding! shed scolded. Diane wanted everything perfect. She was the one whod ordered and paid for my formal wedding invitationsafter I told her I could just make them by hand.

What is wrong with you? shed said then.

She repeated this at the shop, adding, You have to wear a wedding dress!

I tried on the simplest, non-wedding, dresses they had, but I didnt like the way any of them looked.

Just try this on! Diane insisted, extending the poofy dress I had scoffed at earlier.

Fine! I growled, wishing this whole bridal appointment would just end.

The saleswoman helped me put it on, and as I looked in the mirror I couldnt believe how it made me feel. I walked out with a small, embarrassed smile on my face. Diane was right.

My sister and my aunt Irma came close to me, smiling.

Oh my God, honey, you look beautiful, Irma said, beginning to cry. Do you like it, sweetheart?

It was a strapless gown with ruching on one side of the waist, which spread out toward the skirt in delicate waves. It was simple enough: no bling, no lace, not as poofy as I had imagined. But most of all it made me feel beautiful.

I love it.

I spun around and watched myself waltz in the mirror. I didnt want to take it off. Irma took pictures to send to my mother in Florida. This was really happening.

This was really happening. I held on to my fathers arm as we stood at the doorway waiting for the cue to go outside. It suddenly felt hard to breathe. Through the small opening in the window blinds, I could see my niece slowly walking, scattering flower petals on the aisle. I looked at my father, who was focused on looking straight ahead. He seemed nervous, too. Just outside the doorway some friends and family looked at me with bright smiles and snapped pictures. My cousin Aileen was the only one to notice the look on my face.

Breathe, she said, gesturing for me to take in a deep breath. We did this together, then both exhaled. I looked at her eyes as we repeated the breath: long inhale, hold, then release. The wedding march music began, and my father led me outside.

We walked around the small corner, and there he was. Gavin looked handsome in his black suit and wine-colored tie. He was smiling. I smiled back as my body and breathing relaxed.

Who gives this woman to be married, the pastor asked as we reached the arch of white lilies.

My father responded in his thick Spanish accent, Her mother and I.