An Unlikely Love Story {The finale}

I am super excited to be able to post this now. Although you guys will be seeing this whilst I’m away  preparing to GET MARRIED TOMORROW, (oh sorry, did I mention that already?), I’m busy formatting this post 5 days before the big day. Without a doubt, Sam’s post is exactly what I needed to hear at this stage of the proceedings. Whilst I feel relatively calm (you may want to refer to the people around me for confirmation/denial of this), I’ve also found myself stressing over the little things, and this post was a huge great reminder to take a step back, and remember why we’re getting married in the first place. *
Those of you who read Sam’s initial posts about her and Monty’s Indian wedding, will know how much of a fight they’ve had to even be able to get married with Monty’s parents approval. So I think this final post is a fantastic demonstration of a couple who didn’t just get married because it was the thing to do, or because it was expected of them, or because all of their friends were doing it. They did it for the best possible reason. Love.
From the moment I met my husband, I knew that I loved him. I know that that sounds soppy and idealistic. In fact, it sounds sickeningly sentimental, doesn’t it? But honest to god, as soon as I saw him, looking lost and lonely in an overcrowded shopping centre, I fell head over heels in love. 
Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t one of those ridiculous black and white Hollywood moments. The world didn’t stop around me, and I didn’t get butterflies or throw up on his feet. But I did know that I’d do anything for this man I’d just met, and that one day we’d get married.
Now, looking back from this blissful state of newly-wed, it’s hard to believe that I’m actually here. That I’m actually sitting here rather smugly, knowing that I’m Mrs Hadadi and that man is now my husband.
For those of you who read my blog following our Indian wedding a few months ago, you’ll understand when I say that I can’t quite believe that we made it. I cannot believe that, against all odds, I am now married. 
Thanks to the huge cultural differences between myself and Monty (to put it simply, he’s Muslim, I’m not), we’ve had to scramble over hundreds upon hundreds of obstacles. There’s been nothing perfect about our relationship and, at times, we’ve nearly crumbled. We’ve had Olympics-sized hurdles to throw ourselves over, and Everest-sized mountains to climb. But thanks to that beautiful, unconditional thing called love, we’ve made it. We’re here, and no one can ever break us. 
I know that it’s the most over-used phrase in the wedding book, but our big day was the happiest day of my life. From the moment I shyly glanced in the mirror when I pulled on my dress, I started to cry. Not because I felt beautiful, or because I looked like a princess, but because I was overwhelmed with emotion. I’ve never been one to dream of a big white day, or to plan my wedding since I was a little girl. I never even wanted to get married, but as I stared at myself in the mirror, I could see our future reflected back at me. 
Everyone who knows me will know that I didn’t want a fancy wedding. I didn’t want a meringue, I didn’t want the church. I didn’t want the hundreds of guests, and I definitely didn’t want our day to overshadow what it should be all about – a celebration of our love. 
From the start, I wanted it to be simple and, above all else, fun. I think after the Indian ceremony, which was extremely OTT, we wanted nothing more than to let our hair down. We had a fancy dress box to go with our photo booth, hundreds of cocktails, a game of Football, a massive BBQ, we wrote our own vows – everything that we knew our friends and family would enjoy. 
Although I was determined to wear red on my wedding day, my mum eventually talked me into a simple, ivory halterneck dress. No train, no embellishment, and no fuss. Everything was simple, beautiful and modern – it was exactly what we wanted. 
The ceremony passed by in such a blur that I can scarcely remember it at all. I can’t remember walking down the aisle to Somewhere over the Rainbow with my dad in a daze, our friends and family already in tears. I can’t remember reaching Monty, and seeing how breathtakingly handsome he looked. I can’t remember how he got so emotional he forgot his name, or how when he started to cry, there was no going back – neither of us could stop. I can’t remember turning around and seeing our family and friends – even the registrar – sitting quietly, the tears streaming down their faces. All I can remember was feeling as if there was no one else in the room but us. I was lost in the moment, the room was airless and I felt completely weightless. 
When I first wrote my vows, I found it hard to find the words. But then, it all just fell in to place. When I started speaking those vows, I don’t think I’ve ever meant anything more. There were – still aren’t – no words to describe just how much I love my husband, but I hope they came close. 
To be honest, I think that our ceremony summed up our entire relationship. There were no gimmicks, nothing fancy. There was nothing Hollywood about it – there were no white doves, no rose petals on beds, no fancy photography and no princess dresses. 
It was all about our love for each other, a love that was made even stronger by the way in which we had to fight for it. Afterwards, the registrar told us that she had never officiated such a beautiful ceremony, and that a ceremony had never made her cry before – to me, that was the biggest compliment we could receive because that’s everything I’d ever wanted our wedding to be. 
The rest of the day was perfect, bonkers and completely emotional. I think I cried my way through pretty much every single one of the speeches, but I spent the rest of the day with a mega-watt grin plastered to my face. The photo booth went down especially well and, to this day, my favourite photo of Monty and I is one where he’s wearing a giant afro wig, and I’m nuzzling in to him. 
When I try to think back to the big day, I can only remember small fragments. I think my only regret was not hiring a videographer because the whole day whirled by, and I still haven’t had a chance to reflect properly on it all. But every time I remember that I’m married, or every time I catch a glimpse of my gorgeous husband, I get tingles. I wanted our wedding to show the world how much I love Monty – pure, unadulterated, unconditional love. And that’s the most beautiful thing in the world. 
* As a totally irrelevant aside, how smokingly HOT does Sam look in her HIGH STREET dress?! Proof indeed that you don’t need a bridal shop dress to look stunning.
Categories: Marriage, Politics and Feminism
4 interesting thoughts on this

3 Comments

  1. Anna K
    Posted November 8, 2010 at 9:37 pm | Permalink

    That picture, that first picture, makes me want to cry. I could stare at it for hours!

    Sam and Monty, huge congratulations. Your story has humbled me, and is a lesson to us all.

    PS – on a slightly more superficial note – Sam, your dress is a BEAUTY x

  2. Posted November 9, 2010 at 8:58 am | Permalink

    Sam, you really do look so incredibly gorgeous-the dress, the hair-those flowers….wow indeed!

    And it's like a real, honest happy ending to a story that was told so very beautifully.

    Congratulations to you both!

    x

  3. Posted November 11, 2010 at 2:43 pm | Permalink

    Aww I only just realised that this blog went up! Thanks guys :) I'm so glad you liked the story / pics…I have never been happier now I'm Mrs H :)

One Trackback

  • By Where did you get that dress {Part 1} on February 29, 2012 at 5:35 pm

    [...] too. For further proof (as if it is needed) that these dresses are beautiful, check out Sam’s English Wedding where she is looking truly stunning in a BCBG number. Next… Charity/Vintage shops. [...]

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Hello! We're Clare, Aisling and Anna and welcome to a corner of the world where smart, flawed, real women talk about the bigger picture; about their experiences, stories and opinions on all aspects of being a woman today, from marriage to feminism to pretty, too.

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