The first time I heard the name of The Guy I Used to Date something inside me whispered, “This is going to be a special person in your life.”
I hadn’t even met him. I had only seen him in passing. I was 16 years old, what on earth could my gut possibly know?But something deep inside me knew that this person and I would have a very special relationship.
And I was right. Within a few months we met, started dating, and, in my opinion, would have easily won the “Most Likely to Marry Their High School AND College Sweetheart” superlative. We had that thing locked up. There honestly weren’t lots of questions about our future. After all, something had told me he would be special, and what is more special than a husband?
My 16 year old gut had been so spot on that I continued to use her. She was how I decided to go to Tennessee Tech. She was how I decided to become a Psych major. How I decided to say no to Western Kentucky, and instead went to Trevecca. She was how I knew what car to buy. Me and my gut were on a roll when it came to decision making, rarely did I question her…
Until I went to church one Sunday. I had planned to go to the Sunday School class my dad had taught because I had just moved back home and felt like a complete stranger in my home church. As I walked down the hall the pastor’s wife called out to me from her Sunday School classroom.
“Marie! You’re back, come to this class! You’ll love it.”
I hesitated because I did not want to deal with people I didn’t know, but I have this strange inability to say ‘no’ at times, especially when I’ve been caught off-guard. I went dutifully into the classroom.
And then he walked in. He sat across from me, and seemed completely unaware that I was staring at him.
“That’s your husband,” my gut said.
The only reason I remember it so well was because I immediately started arguing with myself, a sign to how much my gut meant business. Also a sign that I had lost. my. mind.
“He can’t be my husband. I’m as close to engaged as you can possibly get,” I was honestly about to cry, I was so scared.
“The other one was special. This is your husband.”
Yes, my gut and I were having a real conversation in the middle of Sunday School.
“Gut, you’re either wrong about this, or you were wrong 7 years ago. Gut, are you broken? You have got to be broken. Please don’t break. I need you.”
But the feeling stayed with me, and slowly ate away at my relationship with The Guy I Used to Date. I had said a few words in passing to this new person, did some Google searching (because I am, and always will be, a cyberstalker), and learned some information that seemed to seal the deal that this new guy was not my husband. I was doing everything I could to ignore her premonition.
But the feeling never left. My gut knew, and so did I. Mark was my husband, no matter how much I tried to ignore it. My heart knew immediately, and it took a year or so for my head to catch up…
So, out of curiosity, and a love of comments… how did you know when you met your One*? Did you just know, or was it something that he/she did? Candice? Michelle? Either Susan?
*Despite what my story suggests, I don’t really believe in a “One”, or fate. I know that’s weird, but I don’t buy it. I don’t understand me, either.