Vince: It was almost thirty-five years ago.  We were married on a beautiful – albeit cold and icy – November afternoon in 1982. Family was arriving early for the photo shoot at the chapel on the college campus where Debbie and I met and fell in love.  As a veteran of wedding ceremonies – I have sung and played music at them since I was 14 – I knew that the ceremony would be fantastic.  Nothing could ruin that possibility.   The priest, musicians, readers, communion distributors would roll with any punches – and at least one would certainly come our way. But the purpose of the ceremony was for Debbie and I to marry, and that would definitely occur.

But where was she? We were to take photos before the Mass.  The photographer improvised from her normal routine. We took pictures of me, my family, and the groomsmen.  Still no Debbie. People would chide, “Well, it happened. She stood you up! Big case of cold feet, hahaha!” Of course I knew that wasn’t the case. There was no way to reach her.  (After all, this was way before cell phones!)But I didn’t worry. I knew all would be well. There would be a logical explanation.

Debbie: All was on schedule. I had showered and put on my new peach sweat suit, ready to drive to the dorm room of a friend at Hamline University, where I worked, who would expertly do my hair and makeup. My husband-to-be had lent me his brand new, shiny-blue Ford Escort to drive there and then to the church for the happiest day of my life. I carefully packed my dress, hat, and the reception flowers into the back of the car.

It was cold and sleeting outside, and I drove especially carefully as it was getting increasingly slippery. I didn’t need to hurry, as I had left plenty of time for making myself beautiful. Besides, I had driven in similar weather many times, and I was a good driver. As I very slowly made my final right turn onto the road leading to the dorms, I found that the car’s tires could not turn: they were skidding on a field of pure ice. The streets on this block were completely empty on this bitter morning except for one lonely car parked across the street from where I was, right in the path of my skid! As I held the steering wheel firmly, I willed the car to stop inches from the collision – like in the movies! But it didn’t. It was a slow-motion picture instead, and the left front bumper of Vince’s beautiful new car slowly pressed into the drivers’ door of the parked car, leaving a big dent.

What could I do? I couldn’t hit and run. I was young and hadn’t owned a car before, so I wasn’t sure what the procedure was in this circumstance. Instead, I went up and down the street, knocking on door after door after door to find the owner of the car, or at least to call someone for help. A door finally opened for me, and I burst into tears, crying, “I just had an accident, I don’t know whose car I dented, and I can’t find a phone, and I’M GETTING MARRIED TODAY!” The kind young mom said, “Oh, you poor thing! Come right in!”

Vince was already at church so I couldn’t call him. I called a friend who said, “Leave a note on the car, walk to your friends’ dorm room, and I’ll get the flowers to the reception hall; then I’ll come back and pick you up and take you to the church.”

When I finally entered the church, I could only think of one thing:  I had to let Vince know that I got his precious new car into an accident, and I had to tell him BEFORE we said our vows!

Vince: Debbie explained her situation. I gave her a hug and a kiss and assured her all would be well. We would take more pictures after the Mass. We ended up asking the guests to go to the wedding reception hall and to start dinner without us. We’d greet guests as they ate.

I was so proud. Look who I was going to marry! Some people in similar circumstances might have just left the scene to get to the church on time. Not Debbie. She knew how frustrating it is to have your car dented without explanation. She took responsibility and resolved the situation. My wife had honesty and integrity.  

Debbie: He didn’t get the least bit upset about his car – his new baby. Many husbands-to-be would have at least subtly let their wife-to be-know how bumbling she was for hitting a car, being late for her wedding, and keeping guests and the professional photographer waiting. I was actually afraid that Vince would be mad about his car. How little I knew yet about his man I was marrying!

Both: Why do we tell this story? After all, this blog is about two people who were called “fatty” or “faggot” throughout their young lives. We tell this story because, first and foremost, this blog is a love story. It’s about two people who care for each other, face challenges, and find ways to work through them.

Neither of us realized how Debbie’s weight “issue” would affect her life so significantly moving forward. Nor did we realize what Vince’s sexuality truly was, yet alone how it would impact our marriage. We were simply two beautiful people in love.

Vince: Did I think of men sexually that day? No. I thought of sex and was looking forward to it at the end of the day, that’s for sure! But I didn’t think of sexuality. All I thought of was how much I loved this woman and what a lucky man I was.  

Debbie: Did I think I was fat that day? No. All I saw was the most beautiful, happy woman marrying the most beautiful man.  

Both: We both hold our decision to get married as the best decision each of us ever made. Our wedding day remains the most wonderful day of our lives. We were perfect beings that day. We were (and still are) perfect together.