Special Guest Blogger: Catherine of Aragon

I was Henry VIII’s First and longest lasting Wife but he wasn't my first British Royal husband, that was his older Brother Prince Arthur but it gets creepier because i was just a toddling three years old at the time.
Even people in Medieval times thought that three was a little young to get hitched, so everyone did the patient thing and waited and we wrote to each other until Arthur turned 15, which is obviously the exact age all boys turn into emotionally responsible men. When the clock struck 'teen' i carted myself off to London to meet my groom and we got married in a stately, lavish ceremony that fitted our ranks as royals and we went to Wales for the honeymoon where we both caught sweating sickness and fell desperately ill and i spent the next days fighting for my life only for Arthur to not and make me a widow at 16.
My father-in-law, King Henry VII, was anxious to keep my families dowry pounds so he suggested he marry me but me saying eeew, creepy old guy in every language i knew put him off so he then suggested his other son, the 11 year old future King Henry VIII.
Seven long years later we got married although me being previously married to his brother meant the Pope reluctantly had to give special dispensation for the union based on the previous marriage never being consummated, i did say i was chaste but i didn't mention chaste all over the garden and living room furniture before we got all sick and sweaty.
Just two months after the wedding i was pregnant but that one was stillborn, then the next pregnancy ended in miscarriage, then a phantom pregnancy and in all i was pregnant nine times but i did give birth to Henry who survived for 52 days and Mary and you would think King Henry VIII would be happy with a live daughter. Instead, his response was that since this one was a girl, it meant a better chance for a boy the next time.
When the 1520s rolled around with no male heir in sight, Henry hired Anne Boleyn as my lady-in-waiting, and his lady in bed and he tried every trick in the book to drop me like a cold drumstick and when i say the book I mean The Bible, saying God had cursed us because he had broken God’s law when he married his brother’s widow.
Henry VIII knew it was going to be a political and religious mess to disentangle himself from me and marry Anne Boleyn so he tried to convince me to go obediently into a convent as a celibate nun.
My response was two words, the second of which was 'Off' so he took over as Head of the Church of England, annulled his own marriage and banished me from his court, and then installed Boleyn in my old rooms.
Five days after our 'divorce', he married Anne Boleyn and i went to live in Kimbolton Castle and later died of heart cancer but i didn't go quietly, i may have lost my Crown and wasted my youth on an idiot but him having to change the religion of his entire country to dump me was definitely satisfying.