Ok guys, get out your tulle and glue guns: it has begun.
I’ve decided that I’ll write from time to time about wedding planning – to have a record of it, to mock it all, to keep myself sane. This is something I’d really, really like to do: I think it will be a unique and fun challenge for me to honestly and humorously portray the myriad of emotions and decisions that go into planning this special event , to look at “That One Perfect Day” © through the skewered lens of a real life Modern Bride.
Here’s the thing, though, much as I’d love to do this, I haven’t been able to start writing it out because I’m embarrassed. How ridiculous is that? I can’t help myself! Some horrible, mean voice inside me tells me that I’m being cheesy, that nobody cares, that “cool” girls shouldn’t allow themselves to get excited about things as antiquated and commercialized as weddings.
I know what you’re thinking: girrrrl, you cray.
And yet: here we are. I don’t know where it comes from, but I feel like there’s almost a dark flipside to the movements away from the Wedding Industrial Complex: in rebelling against the consumerism and conformity of all things wedding we’re being made cynical. That we’re not supposed to become giddy over flower arrangements and diamonds and card stock (OH the card stock!). That we should be above it all.
There’s a very distinct possibility that I’m just overthinking things (for the first time EVER!) but tell me, do you know what I mean?
I’m worried that everyone will find me insufferable, insipid and boring. (You know, since I’m usually so intellectual and deep!) Here she goes again with the wedding talk! That I’ll become a caricature of some kind of bad Rom Com character or worse, the dreaded BRIDEZILLA. I constantly feel the need to apologize for bringing up our wedding in conversation, even with the closest of friends, because I don’t want to appear to be making too big a deal of it all.
All of this is entirely unfounded. None of my married friends has ever once gotten on my nerves by talking about their weddings. Like, ever. If anything, it’s usually me bringing up the subject, begging to see photos and talk details. All of my friends have been over the moon excited for us – for our marriage and yes, our wedding – and if anything, blog traffic actually spiked when I talked engagements and diamond rings and yet I let that naggy, judgy voice in my head keep me from being truly enthusiastic.
I need to tell that voice to shut it. Posthaste.
There is nothing cheesy about being excited about your wedding. Are weddings overblown, expensive, outdated rituals? PROBABLY! But so is the Superbowl. And Thanksgiving. And people still get pretty fucking excited about those things. It is entirely possible to recognize that there is a difference between One Special Day and one special day. Wanting a long white dress and centerpieces is not selling out. It is not anti-feminist. It is not lame.
So I’m going to stop apologizing and start celebrating. And writing! Not always, but now and again, always under the label One Awkward Wedding. And the rest of the time, I’ll focus on more important stuff like poop. And hard boiled eggs. And wine! And if people think I’m being stupid and self absorbed and annoying, well, they can skip those posts. And honestly I probably am being pretty stupid and self absorbed and annoying like, all of the time (incredibly vain, obsessed with Taylor Swift, no personal boundaries…yeah, sounds unappealing) but I think I’m actually OK with that.
Enough navel gazing. Let’s do this thing!