For those of you who know a little bit about me, I can hardly believe it either. I’ve never been the kind of woman that needed to get married to prove anything to anyone. But here I am. Married. And it’s nice for many reasons.
For one, it’s just sunk in that I’m officially not alone. I’ll admit that this is the weirdest part for me. I got used to my solitary rhythm. I had it down to a science. Now, every decision requires a vote, and that can be challenging for the modern bachelorette. The upshot is that I’m no longer flying solo through turbulent times, and that’s something I can definitely get used to.
Before the husband unit and I decided to take the plunge, his father advised us to make it as special as possible, because we only get one shot at the big day. That’s when I started doing what most brides-to-be probably do: I bought a wad of bridal mags and started sifting through reams of ideas. The fact is, I haven’t spent most of my girlhood dreaming of the perfect wedding. I wasn’t a pessimist so much as an opportunist: I figured I’d think about it if the situation ever presented itself. So here I was, flipping through these magazines, trying to pull something together, and fast.
It’s not easy. Every detail comes with its own lexicon of details. Nobody gives you a discount. Everybody has an opinion on what you should do (based on what they would do on their own big day; not what you want to do on yours). And none of this changes even if you agree on a small wedding.
Nevertheless, it all came together quite beautifully. I believe I have a solid group of friends to thank for that. Seriously: I really lucked out here. Of the 48 or so guests, about 50% of them were somehow involved in the wedding. With their help, we didn’t have to worry about music, transportation, photography, graphic design, delivering and placing chairs for the ceremony, hair, makeup, the family dinner, and fashion. My father, who’s a jeweler, also made our rings, which was the cherry on top.
Was it a perfect day? Absolutely. Did everything go as planned? Absolutely not. But it’s funny how it just doesn’t matter in the end.