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My nine-month marriage

Bethan Roberts was too embarrassed to say 'no' when her boyfriend proposed. And that was a terrible mistake ...

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By Bethan Roberts
Monday Aug 18 2008

New Year's Eve 1999, and I am on the beach, squinting through the mist at the damp fireworks. I'm wearing a small black velvet dress and a charity-shop fur coat, and I'm freezing, but there is plenty of cava to hand.

My boyfriend has had his new camcorder on charge all day, and now he's filming the whole event, pointing the lens at our friends as they begin a countdown.

Eight, seven, six ... Everyone around us is joining in. Five, four, three ... My boyfriend hands the camera to a mate, who points it towards us. Two, one ... Then my boyfriend shouts in my ear, "Will you marry me?" And I have a moment of absolute panic.

Just a few months before, I'd been thinking of leaving; I'd even told my best friend I wasn't sure I wanted to spend the rest of my life with this perfectly nice and caring -- but perhaps not entirely me -- man.

But it's the Millennium Eve, and he's asking me to make what seems like a very final decision. So I pretend not to have heard. "What?" I shout back, trying to buy time to think. But he is determined to have his answer.

He produces a black box from his pocket, and opens it to reveal a diamond ring. He repeats his question.

The camera is rolling. All our friends are waiting for my response. I am, of course, immensely flattered. I'm 27 and no one has ever asked for my hand in marriage before.

And what will happen if I say no? That will be the end of our relationship, and I'm not sure if I'm ready to face being alone. So I force my doubts into a tiny corner in the back of my mind, and I say yes. And it must be the right answer, because everyone cheers.

Faced with the diamond, the camera and the countdown, what did my fears matter? This was going to happen. Suddenly everyone knew about the wedding and was involved.

It wasn't long before a massive plan was underway -- we were to get hitched in a castle, with 100 guests, lots of champagne, pink lilies everywhere and an Elvis impersonator (I'm still glad we had the Elvis impersonator, no matter how much I regret the marriage). My mum made the dress, and it was beautiful. I was very focused on the dress.

On the day itself I even gave a speech that was mostly about the dress. I don't think I did more than mention the groom in passing. I was determined that it would be a perfect wedding -- perfect in a wedding-magazine sort of way, that is.

Looking back, I wonder if this was because I knew the marriage itself would be far from perfect. For the moment, though, I was protected by my big pink wedding bubble.

But then there was the honeymoon in Bali. I'd wanted to go to Venice. He'd wanted to go to Borneo. So Bali was the compromise.

We both hated it. And I couldn't sleep. I stayed awake for the entire three weeks, listening to the hum of the air-conditioning compete with the whooping of insects and my new husband's snores.

I also got a bad bout of food poisoning and, hardly able to stand, cried to go home.

But he insisted we stayed. We were on honeymoon. In a five-star resort. I would have to get better. It wasn't that he was cruel; it was just that he didn't understand how much I needed to leave.

Because he didn't really understand me. And I didn't understand him, either.

Nine months and many quiet disagreements later, we decided to divorce. Much of the tension in our marriage remained unsaid. I pretended to be happy when I was not. It was only when I met someone else and knew I had to be with him that everything came sharply into perspective.

I couldn't lie any longer, and, before I had a chance to get into an affair and even more deceit, I decided it was finally time to tell the truth. So we sat together on the sofa and I told my husband I was leaving. He was utterly shocked and I was utterly relieved.

I could blame it all on being young and inexperienced, or on the pressure I felt from him. But I don't think these explanations are really enough. I think I told lies -- I'd said yes when I meant no -- to protect us both from getting hurt.

And I thoroughly deceived everyone, including myself.

- Bethan Roberts