Welcome to my diary. The diary of a middle-aged bride. Yes...me. Middle-aged. A bride....of sorts, not in a white, flowing dress but a bride nevertheless. It sounds very strange to refer to myself as “middle-aged”. The picture that comes to mind when I think about that word is a wrinkly, Caucasian woman with red splotches all over her skin and dirty strawberry-blonde hair with a cigarette dangling from her lips! I certainly don’t fit that picture. I am a medium height ( I use this term because I actually don’t know my true height. Most times, I will fill in 5”4 or 5”5 depending on my mood whilst I have no idea whether that is even close to accurate…but I suspect it is) , brownish, plump, introverted, beautiful (I insist :-) ), 41 almost 42 year old woman. Phew!!! That’s done away with. At my age, I shouldn’t struggle to describe myself but well..I do though am not so sure why. The bride part; I will insist on for purposes of this diary which I will share ...
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