I'll always choose us

I remember the first time I saw Michael. It was at a mutual friend’s birthday dinner, and I almost didn’t go because I was tired from work. But something told me to show up that night, I still thank God I did.

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He sat at the end of the long table, smiling shyly, hardly saying a word at first. But when we finally talked, it felt like time paused around us. We discovered we loved the same books, dreamed of traveling to the same countries, and shared the same silly sense of humor. By the end of the night, it felt like we had known each other all our lives. Honestly,he wasn't my speck yet I didn't know why I was so connected to him.

Our connection grew so naturally. Michael supported my goals, encouraged my independence, and treated me with a respect I had never known before. He was gentle yet strong, quiet but full of deep thoughts. With him, I felt safe, seen, and truly loved. I knew, without a doubt, that he was my person and made up my mind to put on the ring💍

But when I finally introduced him to my family, my entire world tilted.My mother barely looked him in the eye. My father asked cold, dismissive questions, cutting him off mid sentence. Later, they told me plainly; “He’s not one of us. We don’t want you with him. You can’t marry him.”

I felt like my chest was caving in, I had to ask if they were joking. I had always imagined my wedding as a celebration where my family danced with joy beside me. I never thought they’d be the ones standing against my happiness.

I tried everything to make them see Michael the way I did. I invited him over again and again, hoping they'd see his kind heart and genuine intentions. I told them about the times he stayed up comforting me after a bad day, or how he never failed to make me laugh when I was on the edge of tears. I shared how he respected our culture and was willing to learn, to blend our worlds together.

But they wouldn’t listen. My mother cried and said I was “choosing an outsider over my own blood.” By that she meant I was wanted marrying from a different tribe. My father stopped speaking to me altogether for weeks.

I broke down so many times, questioning if I was selfish for wanting my own happiness. But each time Michael looked at me with those gentle eyes, I knew I couldn’t walk away from a love so rare and so I got married,celebrated with those available.

I decided not to run away, I stayed, I kept visiting home, kept calling, kept showing up even when they greeted me with cold shoulders. But I stopped begging for their blessing, I chose to keep living my truth because at the end it's me forming my family, it's me getting married and I know what's best for me, I should get married to whom will help me fulfill my purpose and make me happy,I found one so to hell with whatever my parents say, no disrespect but that's it.

Some of my cousins and siblings eventually came around, seeing how genuinely happy I was. But my parents are still distant. It still hurts, but I don’t regret my choice.

Every morning when I wake up beside Michael and see his sleepy smile, I’m reminded that love is worth fighting for. Not with anger or dramatic goodbyes, but with steady patience and unwavering commitment.

I didn’t leave my family I just chose not to leave my heart behind. And every day, I choose us again.

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