I never daydreamed about my wedding day. I never closed my eyes and pictured myself teetering down the aisle in a cloud of tulle. I never stared longingly at my left hand, with its nibbled-on fingernails, and envisioned the space above my knuckle bedecked in anything other than the scar I got when I was 12 from a jagged can of cat food.
SUBSCRIBE AND FOLLOW
Get top stories and blog posts emailed to me each day. Newsletters may offer personalized content or advertisements.Learn more