My aunt bought me that red dress when she was coming from the UK. The first time I wore it, my mom looked at me and said, “This is the best dress I’ve seen you wear. You’re beautiful.”

Before that day, my mother had never said I was beautiful so I rushed to the mirror to look at the way I looked. I nodded; “Mom didn’t lie.”

Months later when Chris invited me to a Valentine’s Day date, I could think of no other dress but that red dress my aunt bought me. I’d dated Chris for less than a month. We were still at the knowing me knowing you stage. I knew he wanted marriage because he told me so. I told him I was a virgin and he laughed at me. “A virgin? At twenty-seven?” He asked. I responded, “I hope I haven’t committed any crime?” I answered.

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I met Chris in town, in a little restaurant across the busy road of Accra. The place was full of lovers expressing their love in different ways. Chris never stopped looking at me. I said in my head, “It’s the dress, I know. It’s doing the magic.”

I followed him to his place because he insisted. Barely before I could settle down, he pounced on me trying to get a kiss. I got scared so I started fighting him. He got the kiss amidst struggle but he started going down asking for me. I pleaded with him; ”Please Chris, I beg you in the name of God, don’t do this to me. We’ll marry soon and do it as often as we want.”

He didn’t listen. He held the neckline of my dress and forced it open from behind. I was helpless. He was energetic. While in me, he whispered, “This shows that you’re mine. You won’t go anywhere because I’m the first to do it.”

I cried helplessly until he was done. He asked, “How was it?” I sobbed and cursed the day I met him.

The relationship died that day and when it died, it died with the love I had for the red dress. I tried many times to throw it away. I tried giving it away. I couldn’t. I buried it beneath the mountain of clothes I had. Once in a while, it crossed my view but I disregarded it.

Months later, I met Tom. His love was everything to me. He resurrected everything that was dead in me. I was the light. He was the switch.

When he asked for a date, I combed through my dresses looking for what would fit. The red dress came up. I hesitated before picking it up. I put it on and it fit. Nothing had changed. I looked inside the mirror and saw the gift that I was. Tom saw me and said, “Wow” and left it there. “Wow, what?” I asked. He answered, “Nothing.”

On the date that night, he couldn’t take his eyes off me. I saw myself in his eyes and felt whatever I lost with Chris was coming back. The purity. The beauty. The girl I was. Everything came back together that night because Tom looked at me the way that pleased my heart.

When God Throws A Wife On Your Table

When we got married and I moved in with him, I was folding my clothes one evening when the red dress appeared. It still reminded me of what Chris took from me. I said, “I don’t need to carry this into my marriage.”

I put it in a rubber bag and gave it away later.

I was moving on so the red dress had to move on too. I hope I didn’t hurt its feelings. It was about time we said goodbye. “Thank you for the beauty.”

#MyValsDayStory

—Dora    

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