reclaiming wife

The Ceremony

Clear-Eyed Optimism

Today’s post from Mary Via encapsulates what for me, are the most important parts of the wedding tradition. Weddings give our relationships the context of community— they are about standing up in front of our loved ones (literally, or figuratively, in the context of elopements), declaring our intentions, and asking for help. Weddings acknowledge that no partnership is simple and that our marriages require support to thrive. In turn, weddings give our community hope, and that hope helps see us all through. Mary Via’s post is about more than religious traditions: it’s about the ties that bind.

Meg

With just over a month to go until my wedding day, I want to say that I am actually very optimistic about my marriage. I really do think we’re going to make it. I also suspect that we’re going to be happy together. Very happy even. This might seem like a funny thing to say, but you should know that there are several reasons why I might reasonably have come to a gloomier conclusion. Not because there is anything glaringly wrong with my relationship, but because it’s been, shall we say, an “off-year” for marriage in our families.

My fiancé and I are all too aware of the ways in which marriage can both atrophy and erupt. This year in particular we’ve watched our families cope to greater or lesser extents with the darker side of marriage. We’ve witnessed a sibling’s explosive break-up and impending divorce after only a few months of marriage. We’ve also watched a thirty-year marriage strain under the weight of deep emotional pain, frustration and co-dependency. None of this has been reassuring for us as we prepare to get married ourselves.

What I’m saying is that I feel as though I’m going into marriage pretty clear-eyed. I’ve seen and considered the bad and the ugly. But there is also something to be said for the good.

Which brings me to, of all things, our marriage ceremony and the traditional Episcopal liturgy we’ll be using from the Book of Common Prayer. My favorite part of the service is the prayers that follow the marriage vows. The congregation makes these prayers on behalf of the couple, as if to say, “We just watched these foolish young people make some crazy promises to one another, and although we are tickled pink by how much they love one another, we know they are going to need our prayers.” Continue reading Clear-Eyed Optimism

When We Got Married

I’ve read Christa’s post at least ten times this week, and each time I do, it stops me dead in my tracks. Christa distills the very essence of marriage so poignantly and powerfully that all I can do when I’m finished is nod my head, dry my eyes, and go back and read it again.

—Maddie

When we got married, I wasn’t wearing a white dress. Your mom wasn’t sitting in front with tissues in her hand. My brother didn’t play his violin, and my mama didn’t sing.

When we got married, you were crying in the dark and I held you close. You thought you were dying and I said that I loved you. It took some time, but you got better.

When we got married, we said our vows through late night phone calls and too few flights across the country. It took some time, but we found a way to be together. Continue reading When We Got Married

Planning: Journeys

Since intern Madeline married in December and had her reception a handful of weeks ago, she’s throwing us little hints and whispers of the tale. First up, their city hall elopement. I couldn’t be more in love with it.

I didn’t plan on wearing jeggings on my wedding day—it just happened. I didn’t even know they were jeggings. I thought they were leggings with a fly and pockets. According to my good friend Alice, that is the definition of a jegging. But at the time, I was ignorant of this distinction. It was December, and I needed to cover my legs.

I put them on under a dress I bought for $11 from Banana Republic in 2008. Back then, we all thought the capitalist world was about to end. Stores were resorting to extreme sales to stop us all from giving up and dressing in trash bags. I never stopped to thank the banks for creating the discount frenzy that provided the dress I got married in. Let me remedy that: Thank you, banks.

Next up, a battered pair of boots, a comfort purchase after an old break-up. An aging sweater of my grandma’s. (“You can see the holes in the sleeves!” my mother said, of the photos.) A white flower pendant I picked up in Tokyo in 2010. And a pink, flowery headpiece from a New York City drugstore. Done and done.

We had applied for the license and overcome the 24-hour “cooling off” period required by state law. Two dear friends were standing by to witness the paperwork. We had exquisite wedding bands by Brandon’s friend Satomi—not the customary 2, but 4. (Yes, I couldn’t choose, and now I have three wedding bands. So sue me.) We were even allotted a celebrant straight off the set of the Sopranos. (“Congratulations to yous.”)

I know people worry about eloping and whether or not it feels “real.” Continue reading Madeline: The Jegging Elopement

Planning: Journeys

If I were a wedding magazine editor, I’d have a feature on What Every Engaged Person Needs When Planning Their Wedding. (My magazine would not refer to brides, since in a wedding usually more than one person gets married, and often the couple is not exclusively female. It would use a time-honoured gender-neutral pronoun when speaking of people in the third person. It would sell five copies, all of them to my mother.)

Top of my list of The Engaged Person’s Essentials would be “indolence.”

Being an epically lazy person is very helpful in countering the mind-control rays emitted by the WIC. More than once, in the course of my obsessive perusal of wedding literature, I’ve come across some charming idea—a decorative elephant made of flowers, for example, or paper lanterns that look like owls. I’ve sat bolt upright in my chair and said, “I must have it.” I’ve spent hours googling elephant-shaped topiary frames.

Then I usually went to bed and woke up the next morning and reflected, “I could buy that topiary frame for £50 and spend the next six months stabbing myself with gardening shears while perched on a throne of floral foam—or I could forget the whole shebang, get a cup of coffee, and read some shoujo manga.”

It’s a delightful way to spend a year and a half planning a wedding. And you get the best of all worlds. When someone asks you to sign up for a 10 km run or collaborate in a limerick chapbook, you have the excellent excuse that you’re too busy working on your wedding. And you totally mean it! You totally are going to fold those 1,000 paper cranes using only scanned copies of you and your affianced’s childhood photos! Except then you get home, realise your favourite “chilled out bride marries charmingly disorganised Bajan dude” episode of Don’t Tell The Bride is on, and decide that nobody would really have noticed the cranes anyway. Continue reading Zen: The Indolent Engaged Person’s Manifesto

Planning: Journeys

Interfaith and intercultural weddings are HARD, y’all. I know, because I had one. If you looked at our wedding on the surface, you would have seen a lovely progressive Jewish service. But what you didn’t see were the years of heartache that led up to that moment: the struggling of two people with deeply-held traditions and cultures, trying to find a way to work together. And guess what? It doesn’t magically get easy when the wedding is over. (Example: I recently found out that if you’re not raised High WASP, you are not given baby china at birth!? At Passover this weekend, someone had baby china out as a key dish, and I was the only one who knew what it was. Needless to say, these things continue to be baffling to both of us.) But the hard stuff is also the best stuff. It’s the dig deep stuff. So today I’m thrilled to give you intern Zen, talking about how both weddings are real (but secretly one is a little more real…)

My parents have had the interesting fate of marrying two children off to Catholic partners. There’s a small but staunch community of Christians in Malaysia, but my family comes from a typically Buddhist/Taoist/syncretic Chinese folk religion background, so church weddings are still a fairly new thing to us.

The precedent in my immediate family was my brother and sister-in-law, who got married over two days, with the Catholic wedding on the Saturday and the Chinese wedding on the Sunday. After the Catholic ceremony my mother came out of the church heaving a “well that’s over” sigh:

“Now, at the real wedding tomorrow …” she said.

It’s been an issue. I’m gonna be honest here, right. I want the Malaysian wedding to be the real wedding. I would ideally have liked it to happen first, but the dates didn’t work out that way. (We got the date for the Malaysian wedding by the usual means of astrological determination—you give your birth dates and times to the temple and they tell you what the “good” dates for getting married are–so there was no flexibility on that point.) So when people ask me, “Which one’s the real wedding?” I know what I want the answer to be.

But when you’re in an intercultural relationship you can’t really do that. You kind of have to recognise the legitimacy of each other’s customs (I know, right, what a bore!). Sure, the first dance and the various toasts may seem like stuff people have just made up to torment me and my family, but it’s made-up stuff that means something to my partner and his family, so if I wanna skip ‘em, I better have a good reason. Continue reading Zen: They’re Both Real, Dammit

 

A few weeks ago we ran a (fabulous) article by Jen Girdish on How To Write Wedding Vows. In the comments, someone suggested that we run an open thread where people could share their own wedding vows for inspiration. Considering how amazing the APW thread sharing real wedding budgets was, we wanted to do it.

 

 

So, if you’d like to share what you said when you pledged to spend your life with your beloved, do so in the comments. And summer brides with writers block? You’re welcome.

PS. You can read our (pretty traditional) wedding vows here.

Pictures: 1. Kara Schultz;  2. Lauren McGlynn Photography