Months before my own wedding, I timidly announced to my fiancée that I had signed us up for ballroom dance lessons. Much to my dismay, but not to my surprise, my announcement met with little to no enthusiasm. My position remained firm that the issue was simply not up for negotiation. I was not about to do the junior high two-step in front of 160 friends and loved ones. So off we went to dance class.

Once we began, I was certain that he would see the romance in it all and thank me for coordinating such a fun activity for us. Alas, my optimism and enthusiasm were as crushed as the toes of my cute new shoes. There was bickering and tears and the pain of missed steps, but somewhere along the way we started to figure it out. After a few lessons my fiancée discovered that he was actually a fabulous dancer and I wasn’t too shabby myself. It took us many nights of hurt feelings and bruised egos but eventually we learned our own rhythm.

The day before the wedding we rehearsed our special Tango dance. Stolen away from all of the craziness of last minute details, there we were in perfect step. We relished in our accomplishments and contemplated our journey. Through learning this dance, we had come together, faced a challenge and supported each other. We were ready, and as our lives became one, our steps surely followed. On our wedding day, we exchanged our vows, kissed our families and performed the Tango of our lives . . . in perfect unison.