When people say, “high school was the best time of my entire life,” I feel so sorry for them because DAMN, life is so much more than 4 years of awkward and smelly and sports. I feel the same way when I hear women talk about weddings.
“It’s my day, and it will be the greatest day of my entire life.”
“I have never had a better day than my wedding day.”
“My whole life has been leading up to this point.”
So, so sad.
And…I was once one of these bitches.
When I got married, I lost my tulle-forsaken mind. Many brides do; there’s a lot of societal pressure to be unique and individual and have every last detail pinned down to the nth degree because it’s YOUR WEDDING, WHORE, GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER.
And you know what? It was too much for too little. I worried about what people would think of our make-your-own-burrito station or about the lack of a quality sound system. I worried about whether or not to get the ribbon on my dress in black or white, and if it would rain that day and Just. Ruin. Everything. I knew I’d gone too far when I worried about if Adrian would do a good enough job decorating the reception site to my liking. To accept how much of an asshole I was when I got married was a bitter pill to swallow. I cringe when I remember it still today.
I really, really wish someone would have shared a few key pieces of information with me before I started planning.
Not A Goddamn Bit Of This Will Matter Now Or In The Future
I know it’s your only wedding, and you want it to be memorable. However, hundreds of hours devoted to the last tiny detail of memorable trinkets for guests mean that planning now becomes work, and you have wasted your fucking time.
I know that your kind-of-friend Jane’s wedding was incredible and you want something that great. Jane’s place cards were hawk feathers pulled from the hawk that flew over them on their first date, her cake was flavored with the same vanilla bean that grew outside the balcony where he proposed, her dress was made from Mother Theresa’s head covering. Wow, right? Jane’s wedding sure was magical and memorable.
Her bouquet toss was really hawkward though.
Oh, wait, no–all of that is fucking ridiculous. All of that work she did, all of that memorable flash is a way to validate their couplehood to the world. They must physically prove how much more they are in love than you, so everything at their wedding must have perfect ‘meaning,’ which devalues it absolutely.
It’s posturing. It’s throat-fucking you with how unique and amazing and how in love they are–and it’s 100% bullshit. It’s just like buying a custom-painted Lamborghini, or a diamond-studded iPhone, or a Giraffe specially trained to lube you.
I’m not saying that you have to do everything the same as everyone else. I’m not saying that the things in your wedding shouldn’t have meaning. I’m saying to think about what really matters–a wedding that you actually remember for the right reasons, or a wedding where you feel superior to everyone.
No, Really. None Of This Matters.
Even though you’ll hear it a million times and you fucking know already, take heed to your grandmother’s wise words, “The only thing that matters in a wedding is that you have a stable relationship.” Truth.
No amount of DIY, no amount of tiny details, no amount of Jicama flown in special for this occasion from the asshole of uninhabited nations will make. Those hours you spend worrying over the hand-lettering of the invitations is wasted. The days you spend stressed about the color of the bows on the pews is wasted. The entire year you spend worrying if your circus side-show wedding will come together in the most minute detail and hope ring bearer doesn’t puke and your sister drops five pounds–IT DOESN’T MATTER.
Just like the Nielsen ratings.
You are not the center of the world, and neither is your wedding.
No One But You Cares About Your Wedding, So Stop Being Such An Asshole
Just you, punkin. Everyone else is tired of hearing about how chic and modern and rustic and cool and urban and swag and fancy and casual and hipster and African and work-campy and plagiarized your wedding is going to be. Fucking SHUT UP already and remember that this is your wedding; just you and your intended. The guests are only there for you. They are there to see you say, “Yup, I’mma gonna do this shit foreva with you,” and not for your hand-blown glass angel statuettes lining the aisle–they probably stepped on a few and broke ‘em.
No more crying jags about the candy station. No more complaining endlessly about the gown fittings. No more whining about how he doesn’t want to wear a green tie.
The ribbons are chartreuse and not pearlescent so now I have to die in the woods.
Shut down Pinterest, pour yourself some rum, and remember that you and your relationship are more than the sum of this day.
In 6 Months, Even You Will No Longer Care
This was the biggest slap in the face for me. I thought I was above the crazy. I thought I had it all figured out in a nice balance of fun and personal and wedding and family. I mean, I had my reception in a 30’s Theatre-Turned-Parking-Garage for Martha Stewart’s sake. How could I possibly not care about this moment forever and ever?
Answer: I can not care pretty easily, because it was just another day.
I look back on that day, and I really wish I would have just gone to Italy and gotten married in some field with just the two of us, because the only thing I still actually care about from my wedding–aside from the part where I got married–is the photos. Even then, only because my husband has a terrible memory and needs photos to remember what to buy at the grocery store, much less our wedding.
6 months after your wedding, no details will matter. Your dress will now be out of style. Your hair will never have been just right. Your decor will suddenly seem like a huge waste of fucking time and money–because it was. I can say with 100% confidence now that I could take or leave every detail from our wedding.
I did it wrong. I focused on the wrong things. And now, my only regret about my wedding is caring too much about it.
I also kind of regret the severe lack of snow-cones that day.
Ferris Bueller Was Right
Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.
You’re gonna have a wedding, and it’s gonna be so fucking personal and so fucking great and there’s nothing I can say to stop you from doing that. I know. I’ve been there.
If you must have that wedding with those flowers and that aisle runner and that specific $4,000 cake, fine, but do me one favor–don’t spend your whole wedding day wrapped up in the details, because I promise you that it won’t matter. Spend your day with your family, with your friends, with your new spouse, because memories of the people there will be the only thing that matter, and if you focus on the details, those memories will not be made. Don’t spend your day forcing fun at your wedding–spend your day talking to your family and friends, hugging them, engaging with those who love you enough to be there.
Those who love you enough to risk certain tragic mason jar explosions.
You will have other parties, other times to wow people with your DIY prowess, but you will never be able to go back and get one more dance from your Dad, or one more hug for your Mother-In-Law, one more minute spent staring at this other person who is as crazy as you and said, “Yeah, we’re in this together.”
In your life, it is far more important to be present in the people, not in the things.
What do you think, looking back on your wedding, or looking forward towards it? What would you have changed or not changed?– Favorite Comment From The Last Post: From AshleySmashes: “My pubic hair doesn’t grow in that shape. AM I DOING PUBIC HAIR WRONG?!”