When I was younger I was nailed to the idea that I would be married by age 16 and have my first adorable baby at age 18. I was so excited to grow up and meet my future husband and marry him. I told all of my family and friends that I wanted to get married at 16 and they would giggle and say good luck.

I held on to my dream and wished upon every star and dandelion weed that God would give me a husband to marry. Every boy I met I would “romanticize” my life with. I would match my first name with his last name and write it out on paper to see what it would look like. (Who hasn’t done that, right?)

Well, when I turned 15 Mr. Charming came into the picture. He was perfect. Tall, blonde hair, blue eyes, and even 3 years older than me. We began talking on a regular basis and he even asked me for my phone number.