Eden Cafe

It never really occurred to me that I had eloped when I married my husband. I mean, we hadn’t run away to Vegas. Then again, we hadn’t had a big celebration to which we’d invited all our friends and family either. One day, when someone described our low key, jeans-and-tee courthouse wedding as an elopement, it suddenly occurred to me “Hey, I guess it was.” Unfortunately, it was also another difficult lesson learned.

To be honest, I expected our engagement to be open ended, to last a while. Sure, I wasn’t happy with the idea of my new fiancé being stationed overseas for several years but neither did I think we could reasonably have the wedding of my dreams – whatever that was – until after he returned from his assignment. When he first suggested that we marry before he left so that I would be able to move there with him, I balked at the idea. Absolutely not. We weren’t ready and I told him so without much hesitation. He dropped the suggestion for a while but, as days passed, the idea planted itself firmly in the back of my mind. Before I knew it, it was actually starting to sound like a good idea. Sure, I may not have the perfect wedding but couldn’t I do that later anyway? I mean, it wasn’t like the wedding changed the fact that I was marrying (to me) my perfect match. I began to envision myself as his wife. I had changed my mind.

Amusingly, during those days, he thought better of his initial suggestion and also changed his mind. I don’t think we knew we’d actually be getting married until three days before we said “I do” in a mostly empty courtroom. Even, then, I nearly had to drag him in but we said our vows – I stumbled through mine for some reason – and before I knew it, I was changing my name to his despite the fact that I’ had always wanted to hyphenate. In that moment, my name didn’t matter; my marriage did.

I suppose it is pertinent to mention that there were only three other people with us in that courtroom: my two friends (and witnesses) and one of their husbands. In hindsight, I know my husband and I made some grave errors in failing to include our parents (and just about everyone we know and love) in our wedding. The repercussions violently sprang up shortly before we were due to be married and, unfortunately, I am still dealing with the residual side effects with my in laws – not to mention that fact that we don’t have a single “wedding photo.”

Why did we head off to the courthouse? I have no good excuse. I can only say that we were young and stupid and, quite probably, more than a little lovedrunk. I had convinced myself that if my family, especially my mother, knew I wanted to wed, she would somehow destroy every shred of happiness I had worked so hard to achieve. In her defense, my mother doesn’t usually have ill intentions, she just doesn’t always think before she acts or speaks; I had grown exhausted of being the victim of her thoughtlessness. So, whenever I saw my family, my engagement ring suddenly appeared on my right hand. My husband has never quite owned up to the fact that he had met, fallen in love with, flown across the country to see and proposed to a girl her met on the internet, either. He knew his parents would be disapproving and try to persuade him out of this decision. I suppose he really got the “short end of the stick” in this and, knowing his family, I am certain his fears would have come true. And so we intended to be married with no one the wiser.

Except, as is so often the case, we did tell some people and those people told some people even while they swore to keep our secret and eventually my parents found out (although, no one will ‘fess up to telling them). In fact, they found out just hours before my fiancé and I were headed to pick up our marriage license and schedule our wedding appointment. Colour me more than a little surprised when I received a phone call from my mother’s husband demanding to know what the hell I thought I was doing and how I do this to him? To this day, I’m not quite sure why he felt he was in the position to feel so self-righteously when my mother barely seemed to have a response. Nevertheless, he gave me the silent treatment for months and we were more than little shaken to experience such sudden rain on our parade. We forged ahead and were married several days later; my parents were neither invited nor present as I retaliated against this perceived attack against my marriage.

Over time, I have grown sorry for not including my family in my plans. I do wish I could have a memorable celebration, surrounded by loved ones and, although it took some time, I have taken responsibility for the hurt caused by my family. Still, my family is adaptable and forgiving and the days of the silent treatment are long gone. If there ever was any resentment about the fact that I eloped, you couldn’t tell now and, for that, I appreciate my family more than they could know.

I wish I could say the same about my in laws, especially as my husband and I struggle through an especially rocky part of our marriage but I know better. I know that the way we broke tradition is part of the reason my mother in law has never accepted me, despite the way she pretends otherwise. You would have to be blind to not see that she wishes I was never a part of her son’s life; I never quit fit into her view of how he should be happy and she continually encourages him to divorce me. Even when our marriage is strong, she is a nuisance at best, overbearing most of the time and sometimes downright spiteful. To put it plainly, when I read A Child Called It, I imagined my mother in law as the abusive mother in the story.

As a result, any relationship I try to develop with anyone else in the family has been tainted by her influence. When I chose to spend a holiday with my husband’s aunt during his deployment, the backlash was phenomenal. I felt as though my existence had created a chasm in the family; although, I was reassured it only widened an already existing canyon. My husband to waste a call home to tell his mother to leave me alone, all for spending time with the family.

At this point, I know there is no repairing this relationship with my mother in law, especially if my husband and I do repair ours. As much as I can look forward to a lifetime of happiness with him, I also dread a lifetime of misery from her. Could my relationship with my mother in law ever be pleasant? No, I don’t think so but could it be bearable had we involved her in our wedding? I don’t doubt it. I’d love to blame her incredibly warped sense of family and tendency to insert her nose on everyone else’s business but there is also no denying that had a large hand in bringing it on myself.

At this point in my life, the cards have fallen where they will remain. I am grateful my family was able to accept my poor decisions, burdened by the resentment of my in laws and more than a little regretful that I did not do more to share my happiness with others. Yet, I also know that sometimes the hardest lessons in life are able to show us what is most important and eloping did result in me being married to the man I love.