My husband grew up Amish and I talk shit online.
You’re curious, I get it. How did this happen? Before I married into an Amish family all I really knew about them was that they made doughnuts that would slap your taste buds with a happiness you’ve never experienced before (except for that one time you took ecstasy at a rave) and that they wore coffee filters on their heads to shield them from the sun because they have sensitive scalps. Oh, and reason numero dos, they love coffee so much they always carry around that extra filter.
Boy oh, boy was I wrong! So let’s dig in. How the hell did someone like me become a Miller?I met my husband at our current home back in 2011. My sister was dating a J-O. This stands for jerked over, meaning he jumped the fence ditching his Amish lifestyle to live like the English. Yes, they refer to us as the English. It makes me feel like I’m from England and likely always will. “That’s a spiffing bonnet, old chap!”
Anyway, I’m going to give you the short version with the longest run-on sentence you’ve ever seen.
The husband was being a typical Amish dude in his early twenties and threw a party. I went along with my sister and her boyfriend, David and I met, I had a boyfriend, he found out we broke up nine months later, he got my phone number, asked me on a date, I said “What the hay, why not?”, we went on the date, got drunk as balls on Patron, he threw up out of a vehicle going 65 mph on I69 and the rest was history.
Six months into our shenanigans, we decided that we liked each other well enough to introduce each other to the parents. I was as nervous as they come. How would I fit in with Amish people? How am I going to flush the toilet without electricity? Are they going to throw Holy water at my face as soon as I walk in? I don’t have a dress that covers my ankles, what the hell am I supposed to wear?
Fortunately, I was pleasantly surprised. They were sweet, accepting and holy shit they had lights on in their house. I thought to myself, “How? How do they have lights? How is that lighter igniting this contraption? Oh, it’s LP gas, okay.” Which, by the way, I have a story that involves an LP gas tank, an Amish house, David’s beloved Silverado and calling 911-but that’s for another day.
Amish people like to grow massive gardens and can their food to last them until the next harvest, they enjoy going out on the lake (if you’ve never seen 20 Amish people on a Pontoon just one Yoder away from sinking, you’re missing out) and they value spending time with family. “Excellent,” I thought to myself. “I got this in the bag. They love me. I’m the best English gal they’ve ever set their eyes upon and I too shall become a Miller.”
I got pregnant two months later and realized I needed to leave the county. The cool thing about this is I didn’t feel like I needed to travel out of the US because their horses can only travel so far. All joking aside, they were upset. They would’ve preferred that we would have gotten married first, then had children but you know babies sometimes just happen. They have Christian values, like me, but just a little stricter…just a little. A smidge.
David proposed on Thanksgiving in front of my family when I was six months along in my pregnancy. I was surprised he proposed in front of 25 people and thought “Damn, I hope this ring fits, I’m a lard-ass. This is going to be embarrassing.” The ring shouldn’t have fit but I forced it on, in my head, very secretively. Looking back now everyone probably saw I was about to rip the skin off of my finger pushing it on there, but I got it on so I could post a picture on Facebook captioned “I said YES!” with a swollen finger eating my ring.
His family was happy about the proposal and that we would officially be a family. Three months later our child was born and they love her just like the other little bonnet heads I like to call my adorable nieces and nephews. My daughter learned some Dutch, helps grandma bake bread and knows the names of all of the birds that come to Grandma’s bird feeder.
We got married on May 23, 2015. All of the groomsmen were Amish or used to be Amish so when I picked out ties for the guys to wear, my husband carefully notified me from a distance, “They can only wear bow-ties.” I stared. He said slowly “Amish people cannot wear ties.” I exploded. “What the Hell do you mean they can’t wear ties? A bow tie is a tie, that is tied in a damn bow! Are you kidding me?! That’s the stupidest shit I’ve heard all day!
So, we said “I do” on a beautiful Saturday afternoon with seven bow ties in my view. We turned around to be announced officially as “Mr. and Mrs. David Miller” and to the left side of the aisle there were a lot of bonnets, but I knew that people were missing on my husband’s side of the family. A few select members of the family didn’t attend because of one of two reasons. 1. We weren’t marrying into the Amish lifestyle. 2. We had a child out of wedlock.
I told David at the reception while eating dinner, ”Well, I can’t say I’m upset that they didn’t come because they all have seven kids each and this dinner wasn’t cheap. Cheers!”
And that’s just how my husband and I have been living our life. We just don’t give a shit.
Sure, we have different backgrounds but they say opposites attract and in our case, this couldn’t be truer. He’s calm, I’m a psycho. He knows how to drive a buggy, they let me drive a pony cart once and I almost crashed into a tree. He asks me how to get on Google, I get on the internet and run my mouth every day.
I love my in-laws, I love my husband and dammit I may not be Amish but I’ve had it in me.
Close enough.
(This post originally ran on The Real Blunt Blonde)
About the author: Jonna Miller is a mediocre wife, mom, and blogger. She expanded her social media presence when she started posting videos in May 2016. She is now known as the ‘Real Blunt Blonde‘ and with almost a half million followers on Facebook, she wakes up every morning with high hopes to offend America.
