Jenilyn Rodriguez, 30, shares her true life story;
I scrolled through the online jewellery shop and gasped with delight.
Good, it’s still there.
I’d spotted the beautiful ring five years earlier but back then couldn’t justify the $300 price tag. Now, I finally had a reason.
Because after all this time I’d finally found The One I wanted to marry… me!
I’d always dreamed of having a lavish wedding to the man of my dreams, followed by a long and happy marriage.
But things hadn’t worked out that way.
A year earlier, after splitting from my partner of six years, I’d dated a string of men who didn’t treat me well.
So I made a promise to put myself first.
Two weeks later, my ring arrived. It was a tortoise-shell band and it was beautiful!
I put it on my wedding finger and took photos of it.
Then I posted a photo of my left hand on Instagram and wrote, I realised I am The One.
I finished the post with the hashtag #engagedtomyself.
It was just a bit of fun.
But then all my friends loved the idea.
“When’s the ceremony?” one asked.
I just laughed but when I told my friends Kat and Cheyenne, they encouraged me to go ahead with a wedding.
“After everything you’ve been through you deserve a party,” Kat said.
So I sent out ‘Save the date’ cards. I’d chosen November 11 because the number 111 means angels are in the room with you.
Some people struggled to understand it, so I had to be a bit selective with my guest list, choosing only those who’d bring positivity to the occasion and not judgement.
I invited 15 close friends and my sister Jessica, 29, who offered to make my wedding cake.
I decided not to invite my parents or my brother.
Of course they loved me but as they were devout Catholics, who believe marriage should be between a man and a woman, I didn’t want them to feel uncomfortable.
Besides, I’m a reiki teacher and actress so they were used to my slightly eccentric ways.
I picked the venue and bought a beautiful cream skirt with a matching corset and a lovely white shirt with ruffled sleeves to wear underneath.
On the morning of the big day, I felt just as nervous as any other bride.
Jessica did my hair and make-up, and Cheyenne put the final touches to my outfit with a handmade flower crown.
At exactly 3.33pm I walked down the aisle, because the number 333 means pure love in angel numerology.
Kat officiated the ceremony and Cheyenne read the poem Desiderata.
It took seven minutes to read my vows to myself, using a handheld mirror.
“I promise to do what I need to be happy and to respect and love myself forever,” I said.
I looked around the room and spotted my friends in tears.
Then I placed a second ring on my finger.
“With this ring, I me wed,” I giggled and everyone cheered.
More friends joined us at a bar afterwards for the after-party.
Although it wasn’t a legal ceremony, it was everything I’d ever imagined.
If the right man came along, I’d be open to another wedding.
Given how amazing my ‘wife’ is, I can do anything my heart desires, even cheat on myself if I wanted to, but so far, I’ve been totally faithful.
Of course, if I did meet a potential husband, I’d never divorce myself – that would be impossible – but I’m open to a traditional marriage and a family. I’m a true romantic at heart, after all.
Marrying myself might seem weird, but everyone should vow to treat themselves better. And there’s no-one more perfect for me than me.
I’m all I’ll ever need.