The Wedding Issue

Chapter Three - The Voice of Reason AKA Monica

'Wow! The veins on your forehead really pop up when you're pissed', Monica said as we entered my office.

I stormed out of the meeting room with a cloud of rage following me after her incredibly stupid suggestion. If there was one thing I ever wanted to leave behind as my legacy, it would be an advice to women to NEVER get married. No good has ever come out of it. I could not think of one functional relationship that has lasted a lifetime. Unless you're living in an Enchanted Forest and you're marrying Prince Charming, that marriage is a death sentence.

'Are you trying to give me an aneurism?', I said between gritted teeth.

'Yes, that is exactly what I'm trying to do', she said sarcastically.

'This isn't funny, Monica. You made me look like shit in front of my people', I said with a tantrum.

'Why? Because I suggested a wedding issue for a change?'

'Yes!'

Did she not realize how insane that idea sounded?

'Look, Genevieve, your whole obsession with independence and woman power and all that jazz, that's great, but you're missing the bigger picture. Every little girl dreams of her wedding day...'

Not every girl, I thought as I rolled my eyes.

'... and I've received a lot of fan mail asking for wedding related topics. Don't you think you owe it to your readers to grant them this one tiny, little wish', she pleaded.

'That sort of pathetic, crap talk may work on a baby, but not on me', I said as I paced around the office.

A wedding issue? Ugh! There was no way in hell I would ever agree to that.

She sighed out of frustration.

'You could be such a bitch sometimes', Monica murmured as she rubbed her temples.

'Excuse me?', my voice raised a few octaves.

I had half the mind to grab my stapler and throw it at her.

'I know that women all around New York worship you. You teach them how to be strong and take care of themselves, yada yada yada, and all that's great, but you'd be a hypocrite if you don't teach them that it's okay to be vulnerable and to seek love and a happily ever after. Women may be leaders and warriors and survivors but they're also lovers and wives and mothers.'

I stopped dead in my tracks and stared at her in disbelief. Did she not know me at all? I didn't know if I felt angry or betrayed at this point.

'I can't tell them that', I tried to reason with her.

'Why not?'

I turned away from her and stood by the wall wide glass window. I stared at the beautiful city in front of me and I felt the beating hearts of every woman out there.

For some reason, I remembered the day my mother left my father. She yelled at him for falling into his cobweb. She regretted marrying him because their marriage was always loveless. She thought she was doing the right thing then because she was pregnant and had nowhere to go. My dad reminded her that no matter what he will always love her, but she still picked up her suitcase and walked away. They had no idea I was at the top of the staircase, and I heard every agonizing word coming out of her mouth.

I looked at the women walking around the streets of New York. I looked at the goddesses as they made their ways to weave their happiness.

Was Monica right? Am I really being a hypocrite for not wanting to teach women about love? Have I really fallen that far off the wagon?