"I'd like for us to get married someday."
I gulped. I was seventeen. I had literally just graduated from high school a few days prior.
I was on the phone with my boyfriend at the time, who lived on the other side of the country. While we were both seniors, he was still technically in school as his graduation was about three weeks after mine.
I had been slowly packing for my freshman year of college. At seventeen, I had no idea what to expect about college. Would I be one of these people who partied every weekend? Did I want to be tied down to a guy on the other side of the country? And why did I want to date him anyway? (Answer: I was seventeen, single, and bored)
After hanging up, I tried imagining myself in a poofy white dress, getting married to this guy while his disapproving Russian family looked on.
I shuddered.
Then (kind of) promptly broke up with him.
In the third grade, my best friend in my class, Kelsey, asked me what I wanted for my wedding. I stared at her, and, with my advanced third grader vocabulary, explained to her that I was going to die a spinster because I didn't like any boys in my class.
Honestly, truth be told, I don't have a dream wedding. While I'm fairly confident these days that I'm not going to die a spinster, I was just too busy with horses and school and my friends and learning how to drive to think about getting married.
Also the boys from Ragsdale were kinda gross (props to everyone in my graduating class who are getting married to your high school sweethearts. You liked them back then, I'm impressed you still like them now).
I have a Pinterest account but I have no idea how to use it. I don't have a secret wedding board that every girl is supposed to have. When I got my little, I pinned sorority craft ideas for her, and that was pretty much the extent of my Pinterest experience.
I don't pin engagement rings. I don't drool over white dresses. I don't think about the colors I want. I don't wonder about how my paramour is going to propose. I shudder at the thought of invitations, of RSVPs, of using dead and decaying flowers to decorate tables and the aisle.
I don't like bouquet tosses. I hate garter tosses. I don't understand how people are okay with spending an amount of money equivalent to the down payment on a house or paying off an entire new car on one day.
One day. That's all. That's a lot of money for one day. That's a lot of stress. (Don't say anything about Brickfest or Rockfest - that's different)
In short, I don't have a dream wedding. I think about marriage. I think about the security it brings, what that piece of paper symbolizes, and that makes a lot more sense than blowing a ton of cash on one day.
I know a lot of people (my family, my significant other, HIS family) don't get it. They want the party. They want the celebration. They believe that it's worth it.
Maybe it's worth it for them. But not for me.
I know many people close to me and my family have weddings on the brain. My mom, out of nowhere a few weeks ago, gasped, "you can't get married in a Catholic Church! You never finished your sacraments!" When I shrugged, she told me I could finish them, and I awkwardly changed the subject.
Joe is my best friend. My relationship comes with all the trappings you would expect - the L word, normal couple-y stuff, inside jokes that no one else can get. However, one of the downsides of a nearly six year relationship is that everywhere I go, I'm peppered with, "when is he proposing? Where's the ring? What are you wearing for your wedding?"
I don't have a dream wedding.
I don't dream of my wedding. I don't wonder about the cut or color of my dress (ivory? cream? eggshell? white? They all look the same to me...), and how my hair would look. I don't think about what song I'm going to have playing for our first dance. I don't plan every little detail down to the number of forks next to each plate.
Honestly if I had a wedding my center pieces would probably just be pine cones. That I picked off the ground that day.
I'm not going to die a spinster, but I don't dream of a wedding.
And for me, that's perfectly okay.
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