Growing up, my family was incredibly close. Any excuse to get together there would be a party. Whether it be a birthday, anniversary, holiday, or just a random Sunday afternoon. We were always together. I always had a bunch of aunts, uncles, and cousins running around and they were truly the village that the metaphor spoke of in 'it takes a village to raise a child'. Each of my aunts was like a second mother, each uncle a second father and all of my cousins like siblings.
My grandparents were the glue that held it together. Having a family of nearly 45 people definitely had its perks. But it also had its hardships. But my grandparents made sure that everyone felt loved and welcomed. Even if you weren't actually related, you instantly became family when you walked through their door. They loved each of us equally but individually and it felt like a warm cocoon every time we were together.
Anytime anything happened where someone was sick, or injured, we were all there. 45 people crowding around a hospital bed passing a smuggled in bottle of liquor around the room or tossing sandwiches over the injured person became regular. We knew we were strong together and nothing could change that.
Until the last hospital stay. The last coma and the last sandwich tossed. We got older, we got angrier, and we got busier. No longer had time for one another unless it benefited us. As I grew older and my morals changed, their opinion of me changed as well. I was no longer one of the team, I was an outsider and unwelcome. Staring in at the party through the window uninvited.
What changed? My grandparents loving embrace was gone. Both passed and the pain of it all turned us against one another. Any chance they could get to tear one another down, they did. And when they kept treating me like a stranger on the street, I stopped pretending to care anymore.
I had moved on with my life. Got a job, met a boy, and fell in love. He became my family. He had an amazing group of friends and family around him constantly that reminded me of what I used to be a part of and I immediately felt welcome in his circle.
And I've been incredibly happy.
My fiancé, Niall is quite a bit famous and we decided early on we didn't want to acknowledge or publicize our relationship until we both knew we were serious. We didn't need the press or anything getting into our relationship. And we'd gotten pretty good at staying off each other's social media and the fans just thinking I was a friend of a friend that occasionally frequented the same parties. We never took pictures together or spoke to one another in public.
When he proposed a month ago, it begun our conversation on how and when to announce it to the world. Do we share a picture on Instagram of us together? Just the ring? Maybe call one of his friends he's made in the business over the years? Maybe announce it on his James Corden appearance later this month, as a surprise to even the host.
Were currently sitting in a meeting room at his management company deciding the best way for this to happen. I hate this. I have how they control every aspect of his life even down to this, although I understand. They've gone over the pros and cons of everything a ridiculous amount of times before I actually fall asleep, my arm slipping out from under my head creating a thud on the table and startling me awake.
'Pet, are you okay?' he asks rubbing the side of my head where I hit the table.
'Yeah sorry, this is boring. Why can't we just do this our way without a bunch of other people's opinions? Sorry guys, but none of you are in this relationship, we've heard your advice, I think you can leave us to decide.'
'You heard the woman.' He says to the crowd at the other end of the table before they all grab their useless paperwork and leave the room.
'I don't know how you do this all the time Ni, I just love you and want to finally be able to share that with the world. People are starting to think I made this boyfriend thing up.' I laugh.
