In 1999 I got married twice. To the same guy. Once in the States and once in South Africa. Believe me, if you want to feel well and truly married, do it with back-to-back events four months apart.

Because when you are picking out cakes for the second time around to the same person and it’s not due to a golden wedding anniversary, you know he must really like you.

(Even when he forgets his four-month-old wedding ring in a WHOLE ‘NOTHER COUNTRY than the one where the re-run is taking place and has to borrow a substitute from the South African jeweler who made the engagement ring. And then, right as the first bars of the bridal march are playing, he realizes he managed to forget the sub as well!)

It’s been ten years since he scrambled backwards away from the entrance to our South African wedding hightailing it to our cottage to collect his borrowed ring.

Ten years since I watched his face as the speeches – a hallmark of South African receptions – hit the one hour mark and included both threats well-wishes and serenades from former beaus. (This all before dinner was served.)

Ten years since we toasted and danced ourselves silly on two continents before falling into bed, exhilarated, exhausted, and utterly married.

The locations, customs, languages and a lot of other stuff were different. But the promises we made were the same. Your people will be my people.

To keep reading, please click over to (In) Courage the site that’s like pop rocks for the woman’s soul it’s so delicious and surprising. They’ve invited me to guest post over there and I am thrilled to be a part of their community. You SO should be as well.

See you over there!