I'm Sarah, 37 and an HR Business Partner. I live in a smallish town and own my own house. I love to take photos: mostly scenery either locally or abroad and I have shot a few weddings as favours to friends and have won a few prizes for some of my landscapes when I've entered competitions. I love to be in the outdoors, hiking, running or just soaking nature in. My hair is shoulder-length and naturally brown-black, my face is minimally made-up unless I really need to and even then, I'm not into looking like a warrioress. my skin doesn't look like it's been attacked by a carrot.
My love life has been stone cold. I somehow end up with guys who are expecting stay at home wife who will quickly knock out the kids for them. While I'd like kids with the right guy if it happened, I want to cook for and be cooked for, to love and to be loved as an equal.
One night after our weekly pub run, I was having dinner with friends and we ended up making rather rude comments about The Love Show: that most of the women were busty, vacuous tarts and a lot of the guys had bigger tits than I do, although mine are not measurable solely with a magnifying glass.
They dared me to sign up and see if I'd find Mr Small Tits. As we were chatting, I googled TLS application and quickly filled in the form on my phone, with assistance from my friends as another round was consumed.
Weeks later, I got a call from the producers, accepting me for an in-person interview.
Create the position description, then make a candidate list, I decided. My candidate should be at least as tall as me, preferably childless but open to the idea. A smoker was a hard kill: I've had family that were stupid enough to smoke and I've seen what happened to them. I told them that I needed a guy that would stimulate my mind and body, in that order. This, I conveyed this to the producers.
I've also found that guys with too much body muscle tends to mean that they can lack cranial muscle. Ideal config for me is that I can see his chest muscles, but my tits would be bigger than his!
I went in with the attitude that I'd give it my best shot and I knew that throwing two unknowns together wouldn't be plain sailing. I'd enjoy the fast runs and ride out the inevitable storms, dealing with the effects as I went along.
From work, I know when an interview is going well and also, when is definitely sunk and I've dealt with employee situations where things are unrecoverable. When they're sunk like the Moskva, I call it over and get the exit papers sorted. I was determined to do my best, but if things developed into an unrecoverable shit-show, I'd call it over. End. Then, like Cincinnatus, I'd return to my [not] farm and my life as before.
When I was accepted, I had to choose a wedding dress. My default style is casual, but clean: flowers for me, are in the garden and not on dresses. I love a good, fitted dress or blouse and have used The Hong Kong Tailors for ages as they do good value made to measure, but I'm not really into showing skin. Mum and I found a fitted, high cut white dress on the HKT site that had a 6" train. I arranged a fitting and had them tweak it to optimise my fit.
I'm not a huge makeup or jewellery girl and I decided that I was going to be what I normally am in appearance when at a Formal.
I've done a dozen formal public speeches and I know how to prep and present. I wrote my vows' bullet points on the cards: honesty, respect, and standing by but sometimes up for were the main themes.
The day of the wedding, I was nervous as. I had my watch on, and my HR was over 90 solidly, sometimes hitting 110 which for me is pre-race! Normally it rests in the 60s. In the car, I focussed on the scenery, thinking how I'd shoot it and wishing I'd brought my phone to take pics.
Walking up the aisle, at the altar, I saw a tall, slender form entirely in black. No daft things like no socks or red shoes. Good Start, I thought.
The form, my future guy, turned as I neared him, showing his cropped hair and spectacled eyes. I noticed a gentle smile on his face, and he seemed at peace, unlike me. He had a white shirt and black bow tie, and I noticed his suit seemed to be fitted: not tight but tailored. Even better. Wonder if he uses HKT like I do, I mused.
Had his appearance swept me off my feet? I thought. No, I was still standing, but his appearance could glide me gently down a path I mused. I briefly thought about wedding pics and how I'd love to shoot us if I was on the viewfinder. This distraction slightly relaxed me.
When he gently took my hand, I was relieved. Formal but friendly. He spoke in a tone barely low enough for the people in the front row to hear, He's speaking to me and me only I realised and maybe he was trying to relax me?
When he replied that, "Nerves are serving me not me them," I had to ponder that statement: either he was BS'g, or he really was not nervy. #2 I thought, unlike me!
His offer to help me relax stunned me as it was certainly not what I expected at the altar. But his gentle, soft way of asking and showing engendered trust quickly: he was not trying to hit on me as I had initially wondered, but it was a sincere offer. Sincerely given, sincerely and gratefully received and used.
I'd previously tried some breath control techniques, but had got distracted during them and stopped trying, Andy leading me actually worked as I felt my heart slow, and my body relax. The fruit comment was simply the end cap of the process.
I realised that we had united together in that most fundamental, life-giving action: breathing.
He started the vows, by bringing out his cards, Good to see, I thought. His bow and formal presentation of the blanks stunned me, Was I being had? I thought.
I quickly realised his vows were neither scripted, nor a full wing: they were honest and from the heart. But I knew that I was screwed as he'd blown away the vows I'd prepared. I got his comment about burning food (distracted by me!) and I gave him a glare in acknowledgement.
I also realised that, inadvertently, he had challenged me intellectually. His intelligence showed in the vows, but they challenged me to give a suitable response. It's sexy in a non-sex way, I realised, and I did the Up and Down, so recently taught, to steady myself.
I've had speeches that go sideways due to something that that audience has raised, and my method is to respond to the audience. In this case, I quickly decided that my vows would respond to his. But first a slight kick to let him know he'd sunk the vows I'd planned to use!
I felt a pleasant rush as, from my heart, I poured out my response. I could see his appreciation and felt his soft touch on my hand soothing me. I may have found a true equal, I realised.
His run-in for a kiss, but last-minute breakaway was sweet: polite and gentle, but a tease rather than a hit.
When the officiant said, post-rings that we may kiss, Andy looked at me with a cocked head, questioning this. I understood perfectly, He would like to kiss me, but wonders if now is quite the right time. If it is, how much of a kiss do I want as we've only just met.
I pursed my lips in thought and quickly resolved: Not a full-on kiss, but just a brief taster, so I ding-tapped my finger on his hand and pursed my lips tighter. Smart and caring guy I've got, I thought as he peck-kissed me which I briefly held, then we turned around to the room and walked down the aisle.
I didn't mind when he took his ring off and placed it in the box in his pocket as he had spoken the truth. Placing my hand over his over the pocketed ring was a touching and honest gesture.
His delayed compliment about my dress and its associated apology, was appreciated. The reasons for the delay: making me feel relaxed had bonded us, so I playfully rubbed my head on his shoulder to acknowledge.
It gave me an opening to test out my theory on his suit, so I playfully pinched the side of his jacket and upper trousers. It was a fitted suit, but was it his or a rental, I wanted to know, so I asked him and got a head rub in return.
We laughed at my recitation of mum's proverb about fitted vs tight. Another hand rub: micro touches of affirmation seemed to be our thing at the moment, I understood.
Walking to the meadow, we saw the photographer for the inevitable shots. While I enjoyed our brief altar kiss, I wasn't mad on a staged pash. I had the feeling that Andy may feel similar. When he said he did want to kiss me, but unsure when, it reinforced my feelings about him: that he was interested in me, but fundamentally, he respected me. As his vows said, he'd just reinforced partnership.
