The Day Itself

*Melanie & Ben*

I want to say that today’s wedding is about awesomeness (hello amazing blue dress with a white veil and a reading from Calvin and Hobbes). But what it’s really about is how even when we really think we want easy and simple, worthwhile things are sometimes really difficult. And that’s okay. As it should be, even.

I worked very hard to prepare myself for the inevitable bumps in the road to our wedding. I knew to try to be present, to focus on the ceremony, to understand that people will be who they are, to remember that things will go wrong and it will all be okay. I honestly thought I had everything down.

Whoa, was I wrong.

I love details, and I love little things. I also know that detailed little things are time-consuming. I quickly realized that even smallish, simple weddings have dozens of moving parts—so we picked a beautiful venue and let go of most other aesthetic considerations. Our colors were “Um…all of them?” I told my bridesmaids to wear whatever they wanted. The cake was very simple, with minimal embellishments. Favors were added at the last minute, because they required almost no effort and we got them at cost from my friend’s soap company. Centerpieces were mason jars with whatever flowers were in bloom at the venue. Ultimately I kept thinking, “I’m not going to spend months of my life putting together all these little touches that I would love that most people won’t notice, and that will most likely fall by the wayside.” Besides, our friends were already doing so much to help—brewing beer, officiating, picking up the cake, wrangling dogs, etc. I didn’t want to overburden anyone (especially myself or Ben; more on that in a bit). So early on, I threw my energy into the invitations and kind of shrugged off a lot of other decisions.

I had a lot of trouble accepting my friends’ generosity. My mother couldn’t go dress shopping with me, so a couple of friends offered to take me. I was uncomfortable with the idea that anyone was willing to devote an entire day to helping me find a dress (I’m usually pretty slow to make decisions). So we went to Nordstrom, and I picked out a dress in less than two hours. A month later I looked at it hanging in my closet and realized that the dress was not only uncomfortable, it mismatched my personality; I didn’t particularly like it. So I took it back, and took myself dress shopping. Alone. It was surprisingly liberating, and I ended up with a dress I really loved.

Our families accepted our cavalier approach to the whole process surprisingly well. We wanted something simple and poignant, and tried not to let the weight of our decisions overload us. For the most part, our families took their cues from us in this regard. But while some people appreciated our casual approach, it was problematic for others. My mother asked me literally dozens of times what she and my father should wear, and could not accept the fact that I didn’t care. My bridesmaids loved that I told them to wear any dress they liked, but it wasn’t helpful that they didn’t know each other and I live a thousand miles away—and I was reluctant to give them my opinions. Ben was nearly as bad—he’s a bit indecisive, so asking him to help make decisions regarding things he cared little about (Chicken or pork? I dunno, both?) was trying for both of us.

The process, in a weird, almost backwards way, brought out the people-pleaser in everyone. I just wanted people to be happy and excited about coming to the wedding; they wanted to show their love the only way they knew how—by doing (or wearing) exactly what I wanted. I refused a lot of help because I didn’t want to take advantage of anyone, or to make anyone feel stretched thin. In retrospect, I could’ve been more willing to let people help; emotionally, I ended up being the one who was stretched thin. In the end, our friends were incredibly generous with their time, energy, and love, in spite of my not knowing how to accept it. Continue reading Wedding Graduates: Melanie & Ben