I’ve been relatively quiet lately and there has been a really good reason for it! I’ve been off getting married and honeymooning with my wonderful, loving, patient husband.
If you’re surprised, don’t worry! You’re not the only one. Most of my friends and family only found out within a couple of days of the wedding. I was great at keeping things on the down low while we dealt with some family – well… my family – adjusting to the idea of us being a couple and wanting to get married.
You see, Muslim marriages can be tricky. Despite my parents incessantly insisting that I needed to get married ASAP and turning this pursuit into their life mission (no, seriously – read about it here), I had an aversion to the idea. It was an aversion that I didn’t keep quiet, and if you’ve been here long enough, you’ve probably read post after post after angry post on the topic.
Conversations about meeting new men generally went like this:
So when I one day talked to my parents about the fact that I’d found someone that I actually wanted to be with for all of always, you’d think they would have jumped for joy and made the whole process super easy.
Well. It wasn’t.
In typical ethnic fashion, my parents fretted and worried about everything. Other Muslim girls reading this would relate, I’m sure. But bloody hell. My parents turned the whole thing into a nightmare; one that stemmed from the fear that was buried in the depths of their psyche.
They went from being excited that I had found someone to being terrified that he would be a horrible match for me, that he’d beat and hurt me, that he was incapable of looking after me, that he would move me far far far away from them, that he’d just steal all my money but also stop me from working. It was all a bit too intense, too dramatic and too horrible, affecting every aspect of my life.
But they eventually gave in and said ‘fine, marry him.’
Our wedding wasn’t quite what we wanted it to be, and planning was exhausting. After my parents finally got over their fears, they wanted us married ASAP. So we pulled together a wedding in a month and could only really invite our extended family. Things went so amazingly smoothly on the day, you would never believe the drama that went into every single element. Surprisingly, I was the most un-bridezilla bride I’ve ever known, but my mum had a meltdown about EVERYTHING – the chairs, the decorations, the cake, the food, the rings, the dress, the everything.
Those who had been through this process before me kept telling me the same thing – just persevere and things will work out fine in the end, this is just what ethnic parents do. They’ll be fine once you’ve both signed on that dotted line.
And they were right. They were so right.
Now we’re on the other side of all of that and things couldn’t be better. My parents love my husband so much that I sometimes think they love him more than me. The two of us are just basking in the happiness of being together and building a life together.
There are so many things I want to tell you about Muslim marriages and weddings, but they’re going to need their own posts! I’ll talk to you about Muslim proposals, marriages, tradition, breaking tradition and all the other things.
Until then, be well. Oh, and never say never.
*My husband’s a pretty private person so it’s unlikely that you’ll ever see photos of him – but that’s okay, you can use your imagination.
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