‘Even though I am big, he loves me. Even though he could have her, he has me. Even though they love him, he loves me.’ -A letter to my Sister, Niame.

We got married in a quiant little church. No million dollar cake, no 10 foot long guest list, just me, Greg and our families. My hair wasnt strewn with diamonds and pulled into a uncomfortable up-do. My dress didnt have pearls or a 50 foot train. I didnt wear rubys or sapphires just a white dress with beads on the bust. Its not like I was deprived of my dream wedding, quite the opposite actually. He wanted to give me jewls, and bouqets, and doves. I told him that I wanted was him. He would have gone and got the moon if I had asked for it, god knews he has the will and the money but I said all I needed was him.

You look at me and you see a overweight woman, with no extravagancies, in a tiny church in Manhatten but you know what he sees? He sees me. He sees a beautiful, confident woman who loves him. He sees a princess.