"Here Comes the Bride" feat. L.A. Sherman

Okay. So I thought of a great post today. One where I'd show you all the pictures of me in wedding gowns over the years. Beginning with the ones from when I was fifteen, back when my I had my arranged marriage, to about ten days ago when I did a bridal shoot at Fort Desoto beach, FL. So here goes. Captions will be underneath each photo.

My engagement in December of 1986 (which is really the same as getting married in our culture). I was only four months removed from my fifteenth birthday. My eyes were closed because some old lady, some distant granny from some place, told me I had to keep them that way.

Notice the henna on the back of my hands. It was done with nail polish.

Notice His auntie’s fingers on my chin. She was turning my head so he could take a good look at my face, obviously.

This is when I started to get a neck ache.

My marriage in the fall of 1987. I just turned sixteen. His side of the family, everyone from his freaking village, swarmed me like mosquitoes. I couldn’t stop crying. I missed my friends. I felt sick to my stomach. I missed my mum and wanted to go home.

“Oh my God,” I thought. “What’s happening to me? What am I gonna do?”

They changed my sari for this photo. The first sari I wore was actually the number two sari. This sari was the actual wedding sari. After that, they carried me to the river. Then to the boat, and then we sailed to His place, which was in the middle of freaking nowhere, in the late evening.

A picture from my second wedding. Now I could look up and not worry about getting a neck ache, or that some old Bengali lady was gonna tell me to keep my eyes closed.

Look out! I know Karate.

Showing off my trinkets and henna.

Me and some wedding guests.

Signing my life away. LOL. i.e. the marriage contract.

Me and the new hubby.

The red piece of cloth behind us is covering the telly.

Finally, a little alone time.

More pictures with the guests.

A portrait of love.

Here comes the bride.

Looking for my prince.

Trying to look pretty.

Guess I'll go barefeet.

Hope you enjoyed these! And remember, if you want to learn more about me, my life and my memoir, BENGALI GIRLS DON'T, you can connect with me on FACEBOOK, GOOGLE+ and TWITTER. Also, come find me on YOUTUBE and check out my music videos and booktalks. Thanks!

About the Author
L.A. Sherman, model and author of Bengali Girls Don't, grew up in Bradford, England in a strict Muslim family where she learned how to sneak out of the house without making the door creak. At the age of fifteen, she was tricked into going to Bangladesh by her parents and forced to marry a man as old as her father. After four years there with a wicked mother-in-law, she won the visa lottery for America and moved to the Big Apple. Now hard at work on her second book, she lives in Tampa, Florida with her family near a pond full of gators and spends her time doing all the things that Bengali girls don’t.