On this day, 1/4 of a century ago, I was a little pregnant and a whole lot overwhelmed, for I was marrying a man that I did not love, wearing a dress not of my choosing, in a synagogue that I had no real relationship with. But, for one glorious moment, when those enormous wooden double doors opened, and I started to walk down the long red carpeted aisle, I heard a collective gasp from the crowd, and for a fleeting second I felt like a true princess, until of course, I saw my parents and tripped. (It was a sign.) Then of course, there was 'him'. And even though it ended with vitriol and violence, it was worth it all for that one glorious second where I actually felt in the deep down part of me, that I was enough.