by Pearl Maria Barros
As my friends have been reminding me all week long, this is my last post as a “single woman.” And they are right: in about two days from now, I will be a “married woman.” While the language of ultimacy (last post, last dance, last …) associated with my “singleness” these days has a tone of nostalgia reminiscent of Samantha’s desire to forever drink Cosmos and shop for shoes with Carrie, Charlotte, and Miranda, I have to say that I do not feel like I am losing a part of myself in getting married. Instead, I feel like I am entering more fully into who I am.
When I was about eighteen years old, I entered the convent in an attempt to follow a call I felt to vowed religious life. Little did I know then that I would meet my future life partner at the annual diocesan vocation’s dinner where a mutual Sister-friend introduced us to each other. Although my friends and even a few family members would like to turn our story into some sort of Thorn-Birdian romance, nothing could be farther from the truth. Indeed, my partner and I began as friends, supporting each other in our respective paths of discernment. He had already decided that the priesthood was not for him, but he encouraged me to pursue my interest in religious life. And I did. Yet somewhere between our heated theological discussions and the copious amounts of Kung Pao chicken we shared, something more than friendship began to take root.
Now, quite a few years later, those initial roots continue to sustain the love and life we share. So this weekend, my first weekend as a married woman, I give thanks and praise to God for (as Merton wrote) “leading me by the right road though I [knew] and may know nothing of it.”
Filed under: Being a Catholic Woman, Pearl Maria Barros
Congratulations to you both!
thank you Becky!
Love the story! You never know the ways that God may reach you!