This is the first time I’m writing about my wedding, which happened about 9 months ago. It’s a topic I’ve never really enjoyed talking about either. Whenever people bring it up, I just smile and say nice things to cover up my ranting and raving heart.
They say most girls have their dream wedding. And when they become women, they try to make that dream real, even just approximately. I have attended weddings of other people and most of these seem really beautiful and lavish–flowers, music, the wedding gown, flower girls, bridesmaids, dresses for the bridesmaids, all the other people in the entourage, great food, etc. People who spend much on weddings often say that it’s more than worth it. For the women I know, it is the fulfilment of their life long dream. They say that it is a priceless experience for the bride to finally enter the church and walk towards her groom waiting for her in front of the altar. I have seen many women do this and they all seem happy.
When this happened to me, I wanted to cry.
You see, I didn’t have a dream wedding. What I had was a vision of how I didn’t want my wedding to be. I disliked flowers and lacy dresses, especially if this had to be white. I hated formalities. I felt uncomfortable when people put make-up on me. I wanted a wedding with none of these. I wanted a wedding where no one had to walk down the aisle. I hoped for a wedding that just went straight to the point without the fuss.
But because people wanted me to be happy on my wedding day, they insisted that there should be flowers. They made me hold that bunch of flowers they called a bouquet. Even my hair had flowers. My friend and my groom’s friend insisted that I walk down the aisle. Despite my pleas, I ended up doing so. That experience was gruelling. I hated the feeling of being looked upon by everyone in the church. I was the saddest person in that place, but I had to make everyone happy.
Don’t get me wrong. I love my husband, and I have loved him as a boyfriend and as a fiancé. It was the thought of eventually being with him, without anyone else telling me how to be, that kept me from hopping onto my motorcycle to ride away from that whole thing. (Okay, that and the fact that I was in a dress.) The wedding was something I just had to tolerate if I really wanted a life with him.
But it was all more than worth it.
Walking down the aisle towards my groom is nothing compared to charting life’s new paths together with my husband. After all the photos have been uploaded, after all the gifts have been unwrapped, and after all the greetings have subsided, what is left is the ordinary married life of a man and woman. This ordinary life is filled with ordinary days when I find myself waking-up with no make-up on but nevertheless very much accepted. It is also filled with many ordinary nights when no matter how tiring work on that those days are, I am simply filled with the happiness of knowing that the one person who matters to me most is safe with me at home.
What I have learned from all this; however, is that if ever we do have a daughter some day, I should teach her that it is not the “dream wedding” or the “wedding one hopes it won’t be” that should merit all the anticipation and preparation. It just happens for a day. It can turn out well or, as in my case, it can end up being tortuous. After that moment, however, nothing more can be done. On the other hand, it is the marriage that follows after the wedding that continues to demand self-giving while constantly giving new chances everyday. The point is not to make the passing happiness during the wedding the goal, but to make the process of cultivating a married relationship a happy one. After all, it is the marriage that happens “until death do us part.”
Photo credit to: http://www.publicdomainpictures.net/view-image.php?image=39343&picture=wedding-day-in-red