At last...
This is me, age 12. Just the summer before this was taken, our family had a once-in-a-lifetime summer holiday in the UK and Europe. During the first week in London, I turned to my mother and basically stated to her that I was where I was supposed to be. And, as I've said in other blogs, that feeling never left me. In fact, it got stronger over the years. I majored in British Studies in college and spent my junior (third) year studying in Bath in England. But that one year was not enough to satisfy my need to be in Great Britain. In 2000, an ill-advised engagement to an Englishman brought me, at last, the UK on a more permanent basis. The marriage, however, was not permanent. My English husband was a serial husband; I only discovered I was wife no. 3 as we prepared for our wedding. Long story short, our marriage lasted four years, at which point he married no. 4. At least the marriage lasted long enough that I was allowed to stay. Then two years later, I met Chris. We all know how w