Part 9 of My Purpose Story

Doofy was my soulmate. SOULMATE. Before I met him, I didn’t think such a word could possibly exist. This is the stuff that happens in the movies, not in real life. Here I was, in a movie. I couldn’t help but feel out of place. Deep down I didn’t feel like I was worthy to have this life, but the universe had other plans for me, I guess. My faith in God was stronger than ever. Not only did I get a message from my dad while I was in Rocky Point the weekend that I met Doofy, but now I was marrying him, and with the blessing of my strict Mexican mother. How in the world did I end up here? 

The week of our wedding was both exciting and scary at the same time. Doofy had a really crazy group of young, immature friends. He was only 22 after all. The priest had a hunch, he took one look at the guys and said “If any of you show up to church with alcohol on your breath, I guarantee you, there will be no wedding tomorrow” he threatened. I looked at Doofy and thought to myself “if your friends ruin this wedding “I will fucking kill you.” Doofy looked at me reassuringly, as if to tell me that everything was going to be okay, but I know deep down, he was nervous too. 

I had a long conversation with my dad the night before our wedding. I needed his reassurance. I also wanted him to know that I was still a little pissed at him for leaving so early; for not walking me down the aisle on the most important day of my life. Nonetheless, I needed his advice. I needed him. I needed him now more than ever. “Stay focused Dora” I thought to myself. The truth is, I know my dad left me so early for a reason. Selfishly, I wanted him to be there for me forever, but realistically, God had a plan for him, and participating in my wedding to Doofy was not part of it. 

The morning of our wedding. I couldn’t talk. I didn’t want to talk. I left my mom’s house and went straight to get my hair done. I did my own makeup. I was quiet. “Are you okay?” I heard my stylist, and bridesmaids say. “Mmhmm” I managed to mutter. I was scared. I was scared shitless. I was about to marry my soulmate in front of God, in front of my Mexican mother, in front of my family and friends. They were all watching. I could not fuck this up now. 

I came home and picked up my dress. My mom was getting ready. “I will see you at the church” I said rushing out the door. I didn’t even let her respond. I drove myself to the church. The funny thing is, that would not be the only time I would be driving that day. I arrived at the church and made my way to the bride’s chambers. I was alone. When I get anxiety, my first reaction is to run. My reaction is to be alone. I didn’t realize it then, but I was running; I was running from myself. 

My friend noticed my pain. She followed behind me. She popped her head in the dressing room. “Can I help you change?” she softly said. I think she knew I was fragile. My mom arrived shortly after. “You don’t have to do this” she said sternly. I just looked at her. “Say the word, and I will stand in front of everyone here and cancel this wedding” she said. She had my back. She always did. She was my mom and my dad. I instantly felt better. “No” I said, “I want to marry him.” Doofy was patient with me. Doofy loved me in all my ugliness. He never disrespected me. He never raised a finger to me. He never raised his voice to me. As broken as I was, I would have left my ass a long time ago, but Doofy saved me. Doofy loved me back to life. 

Andrea Bocceli’s “Con ti Partiro” echoed through the walls of the church. It was time. It was time to walk towards Doofy and start the life God wanted me to have. My brother on one arm, and my mother on the other, I made my way to my fate. Doofy had zero expression. Not a smile, not a tear, not nothing. Pure morbid, expressionless Doofy. He looked like he was just handed a lifetime prison sentence at San Quentin State Pen. I laughed inside. He was so nervous. This eased my nerves. It was time to say our vows; my voice cracked; Doofy’s didn’t. “I do” I said, “I do too” he said. We kissed. Or should I say hardly kissed, it was more like an air peck. We held hands. We were married. He exhaled. I am glad I didn’t run. We were off to the reception.

“Do you want a drink?” I asked. “Yes!” he responded. He was free from the threats of the priest, he was free, and he was with his friends. He was about to party. Did I mention that we were married at 1:00 pm on July 7, 2007? In other words, he had all day to celebrate; all day. After taking pictures at church, we arrived at the reception hall. It was so beautiful. Mariachis greeted us as we walked in. My mom had a Corona in her hand, “welcome to your wedding” she said proudly. Let’s be honest, this wedding was mine, but the party was hers. Doofy looked at my mom as if they had this secret language. She shook her head. “Not yet” she said. He obliged. “What in the hell is happening?” I thought. After about an hour of smiling and greeting our guests, she looked at him. She looked at him and nodded. He smiled, popped open a beer and started drinking. 

“Oh God…here we go” I thought to myself. Doofy was just given the green light to drink. His mother-in-law had just okayed the best party of his life. The wedding was fun. We had a band, the food was great, and of course Doofy drank a little too much. I wish I could have partied with him, but I was paranoid about looking like a drunk bride, plus my corset was so tight, that there was nothing extra I could fit in my stomach. Now I understand the idea behind corsets. By the end of the night, I was tired. It was 10:30 p.m. At this point Doofy and his friends popped the left-over champagne bottles and aimed them at each other’s butts. You read that right. I can’t make this up. We needed to get out of there. Everyone was having a great time, and not ready to end the party, so I asked my mom for her car keys. I was tired and delirious.

Once outside, I noticed my knight in shining armor was in no condition to drive. I was sober. I packed my big, puffy wedding dress into the driver seat, and my drunk groom into the passenger seat; we were headed home. Life was good. We were married. Doofy and Dora tied the knot. Another thing we tied, or untied should I say, was my corset. My back was covered in welts. Aww the fun parts of the wedding that no one talks about. After changing into comfortable clothes, I got behind the wheel once more, but this time to go to Taco Bell. I hadn’t eaten all day. I don’t think Doofy knew where he was. He was just in it for the ride. The ride that we had been on that past year. The ride that brought me to him, the ride that never stopped. We were still on that ride. I didn’t want to get off. This was it, I thought, “happily ever after.” If only it were that easy, if only the universes made hardships go away. The one thing I learned about the universe, is that it will give you an equal share of hardships, incredible miracles, and send you back to hardships again. 

Well, I had just married my Doofy; I was on a high. However, the universe was about to remind me that it was in charge not me; and it was about to bring me back down again.  

See you next week for part 10 of my purpose story. I hope you are enjoying this blog, and I hope that it helps you when you need it the most. Please subscribe for updates, as Heartourminds is changing and new content and courses will be added soon!