Posts Tagged ‘social hall weddings’

You know how wedding media has become saturated in the last few years in what I’ll call the DIY-ish wedding (or, ok, honestly fake wedding photoshoot)? And you’re like “oooohhhh, that is so lovely and handcrafted” and then you try to actually DIY it and you end up just covered in glue? Well this is the real story of the DIY wedding. Indie, yes. DIY, yes. But also covered in glue, and love, and glitter, and exhaustion, and joy. This is the real thing.

Our wedding day was utter madness.

I know that’s probably not what you want to hear. It would be more reassuring to hear that it was economical, wisely planned, and flooded with meaning; that legions of amazing wedding elves showed up and it all came together in a dreamlike way. That we don’t have any regrets.

The strange thing is… all that is true, too.

But all those months of methodical planning, all that eff you WIC! and DIY industriousness and the repetition of wedding graduate mantras could not mentally or emotionally prepare me for how the day actually went down. I thought they could. I prepared for this wedding like I was studying for the SAT and GRE combined. I had color-coded to-do lists and seven copies of my vows. I even prepared for things to go wrong: I repeated over and over that as long as we got married, that’s all that mattered. I made plans to dance in mud puddles if it rained. I’d be the anti-Bridezilla: nothing would faze me. I mean, I’m super chill and indie like that, right? (ha)

Well, in the moment, things fazed me. Big time. When our sound system went missing and then wasn’t working an hour before the wedding, I was upset. When it turned out the tablecloths that I’d sewn didn’t fit, I was crushed. When the fishing line holding up the tissue-paper poms kept snapping, I started to lose it. It’s hard to pour so much time, energy, and money into something and not feel frustrated when things get derailed. And then I started stressing about the fact that I was stressed—I was supposed to be a cool-as-a-cucumber bride, dammit! What’s the point in having a casual, homespun wedding if you’re still freaking out about your (muslin) tablecloths and (burlap) runners?

I wondered if we’d been too ambitious, attempting to do so much ourselves. I wondered if we’d regret not having time to unwind (or even grab lunch) before the ceremony. I wondered if maybe I would hate my wedding. As my repressed expectations whooshed out of me and disappointment leaked in, hot tears pricked my eyes.

I took a deep breath. As I inhaled, I looked my worst-case scenarios in the face. I stared down the possibility that guests would arrive and see me in grungy shorts and a t-shirt; that I might not get to shower or use the make-up I’d carefully researched. That we wouldn’t get the outdoor games set up or have a chance to unpack the cake stands I’d collected and transported across the state. That the organic flowers we’d bought wouldn’t make it into glass jars, let alone become centerpieces; that my relatives might be thinking I didn’t have it all together, that friends might turn up their noses, that we might not have any ceremony music, period, and that there would definitely be no “first look” photos. And then I realized something.

All that extra sh*t doesn’t matter. Continue reading Wedding Graduates: Maggie & Bob