THE ceremony was short and sweet, but filled with love. In just three minutes, we said our vows, and I smiled at my new husband – who was also my old husband.
This was the second time we’d said “I do”, with a divorce in between.
I first met Chris, a friend of my sister’s boyfriend, in 1996. I was 15, and far from impressed by this annoying boy who kept trying to flirt with me.
But very slowly he won me over, and eventually, I realised that I liked him, too.
In 2001, when I was 19, we started dating. Then, on Christmas Day 2002, he proposed at my parents’ house, giving me a teddy bear with an engagement ring hanging around its neck. I said “yes” immediately.
The following October, I floated down the aisle on my dad Wayne’s arm in a beautiful white gown.
We said our vows in front of 50 friends and family, and I felt like a princess. Despite being just 22, I was sure that we’d be together forever.
But our marriage was rocky from the start. We lived in a small town in Illinois, USA, where everyone seemed to gossip about each other, and within a year of our wedding, I heard rumours about Chris cheating, but nobody knew who with.
When I confronted him, he denied everything, but I just didn’t believe him in my gut. I already had such low self-esteem, plus had put on weight and hated the way I looked – the rumours just made it worse.
Feeling angry and worthless, I cheated on him with random men in retaliation, trying to make myself feel better. I’d feel good for a few hours, then overwhelmed with guilt and self-loathing. I’d swear to myself I’d never do it again, but then I’d hear more gossip about Chris cheating, and
I’d do the same with another man.
It was a horrible cycle. We loved each other deeply, but were still so immature, unable to communicate properly or commit to each other fully.
Before our first daughter Brynlie, now 16, was born in January 2009, we had a big row. I admitted I’d been unfaithful, and said I knew he’d done the same. He didn’t deny it. We both agreed to be faithful going forward and it felt like we’d turned a corner.
For a while, things were good. We had Hadley, now 13, in January 2012, and I adored being a mum to our two beautiful girls. Chris was an incredible dad, too. But despite our promises, the cycle began again. I’d hear cheating rumours, and so I’d sleep with other men, telling myself he deserved it.
I continued to struggle with the depression that had plagued me my entire life. I took care of the kids, but didn’t cook or clean, or take care of myself, which I felt guilty about.
By 2018, aged 37, my weight reached 17st 6lb, and my mental health was such a mess, I struggled to get out of bed. Chris and I were no longer intimate and he slept on the couch.
I had a strong suspicion that he was cheating on me again, especially as he’d put a passcode on his phone. On October 25, 2018, our 15th wedding anniversary, I decided to log into his Facebook account and see if I could find out the truth. I figured out his password and saw a message about a trip he wanted to take with a local woman called Carol*.
My legs gave way. I’d heard rumours about this woman my whole life. Carol was 59 – 24 years older than Chris – and notorious for having affairs with married men. To think that he’d sleep with her made me feel sick.
Disgusted and furious, I texted Chris: “I know who you’re screwing. I want you out of my house before I get home from work.” He tried to deny it, but I knew it was true, and by that evening, he was gone.
If it wasn’t for my daughters, I wouldn’t have survived. The humiliation was overwhelming, and killed the tiny fraction of self-esteem I still had. I felt old, ugly and fat, unworthy of being loved.
I relocated to my parents’ house with the girls, while Chris moved back into our house. I signed the divorce papers in April 2019. It was such a gut-punch at the time that I put my head in my mum’s lap and sobbed.
We’d been through the worst of times, but chose to forgive.
As the months passed, I remained furious, but I also faced up to my own failings. I’d been unfaithful, too, and that made me no better than Carol. I knew it was time to make some changes.
I began counselling and my self-esteem slowly improved. I lost some weight and began to feel attractive again. I realised I was a good person and that, one day, I was going to be good for someone else.
With renewed confidence, I began dating in 2020 and even met a few guys I cared for. But something held me back from really taking the leap.
Chris and I hadn’t spoken properly for two years, apart from arrangements around the girls.
Still, I couldn’t shake the image of us sitting in a rocking chair on our porch, holding hands and watching our grandchildren playing together.
By 2022, we were both single – and we’d occasionally find ourselves sleeping together. I told myself it was just “friends with benefits”. I didn’t let myself think it meant we had a future together.
Finally, in February 2023, almost four years after our divorce was finalised, Chris turned to me and said: “This is ridiculous. We’re meant to be together.”
He swore never to be unfaithful again, and said he only wanted me.
I was sceptical, but in my heart, I knew Chris was the man I wanted to be with forever. We forgave our past and decided to only ever look forward.
This was going to be a fresh start.
The girls were both happy and worried when we told them. They’d struggled a lot when we divorced, and were afraid that things would fall apart again. So, our reunion was a leap of faith for all of us.
Thankfully, it was wonderful. A few weeks later, we all moved back in together and it was everything married life should have been all those years before. We respected each other and I respected myself.
That September, I was at the school where I worked as a secretary, flicking through my calendar when I realised that on October 25, all the local schools would be closed. On the date Chris and I had married – and also broken up – the girls and I would all be free. It seemed like a sign.
Respected each other
“Chris, do you want to get married again?” I asked him that evening. With a sweet smile, he simply replied: “Yes”.
We remarried in 2024, six years after we split. The ceremony took place at our home with our daughters, my sister and my brother-in-law present.
Even without the fancy clothes and big party, it was beautiful and meaningful.
In many ways, it was even more special than the first time. We were older and wiser, and knew what it really took to be in a healthy relationship.
We’d been through the worst of times and seen the worst in each other. But we chose to forgive, change and love each other through the ups and downs.
Being married again has been everything I’d hoped. Loving myself has made me a better person, mother and wife. I’ve always known that marriage was supposed to be a sacred vow, but I needed to love myself in order to keep that vow.
I know that one day I’ll be sitting on that porch with Chris, and we’ll tell our grandchildren that Granny and Grandpa said “I do”, not once, but twice.
