I was making a very anti-Emma Goldman-like move. What would she think? How would she view me?
"I'm independent!" I cheered as I marked the date, time and place in my Palm Pilot.
"I'm feminist," I insisted, and booked the flight and hotel reservations using my tens of thousands of frequent flyer points.
"I am egalitarian!" I asserted, as I picked out a three-piece suit for myself and my fiancé at the same designer boutique.
"I am socially-conscious!" I mused, as I placed our reservations for scuba diving with dolphins and whales at the marine mammal preserve.
"I strictly oppose government regulation of family structure!" I declared, as I licked stamps and mailed envelopes.
"I am modern!" I averred, as I carefully constructed a 10-page guide to weekend activities in Milwaukee, Wisconsin.
"I am strong!" I bellowed, as I packed my bags and boarded the plane, ticket in one hand, cute fiancé's hand in the other.
"I am a career-woman!" I sang, as I dressed, preened, photoed and came down the stairs to meet my groom.
"I am happy," I finally realized, as I stared straight at my husband and uttered my vows.
Only then did I realize, as I looked around the room, that no one needed to be reminded that I was any of those things.
After decades of swearing that I would never get married, of writing numerous lengthy articles about why marriage is an outdated, misogynistic institution one which even had to be published in two parts and of being so sure that I knew what was best for myself and for the world, I did the unexpected: I changed my mind. And isn't that the prerogative of any independent, feminist, egalitarian, socially-conscious, anti-government-regulation-of-family-structure, modern and strong woman of the 21st century?
Emma Goldman be damned, it felt great. I was in love. I still am.
And that is why April 8, 2001, is a lot more than just the day that I got married. It's also the day I started allowing myself to enjoy my life.
It's all a rationalization, of course, and maybe some denial. Maybe we will call our first daughter Emma. I hope for her only that she, too, knows love, and allows herself to enjoy it, in any way she pleases.
How was your April?