A devout wife confronts temptation while it's all in her head
Before I got married, I took a lot of pride in the fact that my fiancé and I had done things by The Book.
The groom-to-be was chivalrous, with a solid group of guy friends and no red flags in sight. He taught me how to flip an omelet without splattering the entire kitchen with raw egg. He didn't bat an eye when my mother asked him point-blank if he was addicted to pornography. (Really, Mom?) And by some miracle, we'd both survived adolescence with our virginity intact. We met with our preacher, invested in premarital counseling, discussed joint bank accounts. We were responsible. Righteous. Doing it God's way and ready to reap the benefits.
My mother had words for me, too. She told me that marriage is sin on steroids, and I agreed, in theory. But my major flaws were impatience, moodiness and a tendency to leave my shoes on the floor. Sure, there were several make-out sessions I'd rather forget, and a few long-term relationships I let drag on. But compared to the rest of the known world, I was baggage-free ... right?
Then my baggage showed up to my wedding.
Click here to read the original article over at the Nashville Scene.