My Funeral is next week. I remember accidentally saying one week before my wedding. I dont know why I mistakingly said funeral instead of wedding. Maybe it was due to hearing the word funeral so much as so many close friends and family were losing loved ones so close to our wedding, maybe it was because deep down inside I felt a part of me would be dying with marriage. I was losing my family name, I was letting go of my over dependence to my family to start a new family with my husband and I was in some ways letting parts of me, the ugliest parts, the parts I dont talk about in my blogs, the parts that are whispered in conversations with only my closest friends or written down in poems, go. “Last names change, people don’t.” The words of a friend replayed in my head the days leading up to my wedding, but I knew that wasn’t true. People can change, but only if they want to and I have never been one to back down from a challenge, or change, as for most, they are one in the same.

 

I’ve always held the title of wife to an extremely high standard. The women I have known that are wives have always been phenomenal women, partners and mothers. Wife to me meant sacrifice, superwoman, backbone, warrior, queen, which is probably why parts of me feared and still do if I would be able to live up to the title making me even more so equate death with marriage.

Even though I’ve been in a long term relationship ultimately the only person I ever really had to look out for was myself. In many times my feelings trumped his because that’s how it had been for so long even when I said I was working on changing, I always went back to my comfort zone which meant making sure my needs were met sometimes at the cost of his – one of the the most detrimental parts of me whose death I welcome.

For me marriage is final. Despite living in a city where marriage can last as long as the drive-thru at In and Out burger, I have never viewed marriage as something temporary. Til death do us part has always meant just that to me, despite what obstacles may arrive my husband and I are in it for as long as we are blessed to be on this earth.

Therefore I welcome the impending death of the old me. All childish and selfish parts of me so I can become the wife and hopefully mother someday that I have always saw myself becoming. Sometimes old things have to die to breathe life into part of us we had long forgotten.

 

So with mourning, joy, fear, excitement and open arms I welcome the title of wife, as I prepare for this new journey of life.

 

Ashley Renee is a soul food enthusiast, sometimes vegetarian, spoken word poet, who doesn’t trust boxed macaroni or cats. keep up with her @ashleyreneepoet on twitter & instagram