Wedding Party Problems And Celebrations

Two weekends ago, I went to Chicago to be a bridesmaid in the wedding of one of my best friends. In September, I’m heading to western Michigan to be a bridesmaid again, this time for another best friend. In February, both of them will stand beside me at my wedding (along with two more of my best friends, one of whom will be my sole bridesman). Though we’re thousands of miles apart, I’ve been by each of their sides as they’ve gone through the planning process and have learned so much about being a bride and being a bridesmaid as a result.

As a bride, I understand the desire to honor your friends, to have them close to you the night before and the day of your wedding, and, yes, to have them help with some last-minute to-do items in the days before the wedding. As a bridesmaid, I know what it is like to feel honored and appreciated, and that while showing up in a pretty dress and fancy shoes isn’t exactly work, it’s not exactly not work either. I’ve learned that being in the bridal party, like being somebody’s best friend, is neither one hundred percent responsibility nor one hundred percent honor; it’s a little of both.

As I write this, it is laundry day and I am wearing a black Hanky Panky thong that spells out “bridesmaid” in rhinestones. Does that make me feel appreciated? Honestly, yes. This gift is our version of the BFF heart necklace and it makes me smile. I actually felt most appreciated when the bride ordered breakfast for us via room service the morning of the wedding. (What? You guys know how I feel about breakfast.) The gifts and the little treats made me feel appreciated, but what made me feel honored was the way so many other guests came up to me at the shower, the rehearsal dinner, and during cocktail hour to introduce themselves to me; that I was a bridesmaid made them make a point to get to know me.

To be completely honest, I wasn’t sure I wanted a wedding party when Eric and I started planning. Read More…

Friendship After Divorce

There are few things that make us appreciate friends more than the period of time immediately after a relationship ends. We started this month with a post about a woman who lost friendships during an emotionally abusive marriage, and had no one to call when her ex showed up threateningly on her doorstep. We’re closing this month with a story from Meaghan O’Malley about how her friends helped her survive her sudden divorce. But more than that, Meaghan encourages us to use wedding planning as a time to dust off our friendships, to re-invest, to deal with old issues, so we can move forward with the strength of all kinds of love around us.

—Meg

by Meaghan O’Malley

Throughout the eighteen months I spent planning my wedding, I got lost in the prevailing assumption that my marriage would complete me; that it would reflect the greatness that is me, my capacity to love, and my ability to create an inextricable bond with another human being. I was focused squarely on the expectation that my spouse would be my best friend. After my marriage ended, I dedicated a significant amount of time deconstructing the meaning of it and trying to determine whether my wedding was a complete waste of time. While I never quite lost touch with the reality that I had other tremendously important friends, I took for granted the security of those bonds, especially within the context of my marriage.

When the rug was pulled out from beneath me, I was suddenly grateful for all of the hard work I had done to maintain my friendships. Consciously or not, I had taken time over the years and months before my wedding to make sure that the people standing next to me on my actual wedding day would be the same people scraping me off the ground when my ex decided to leave me. In retrospect, I learned that combing through my friendships and dedicating energy to repairing them, reenergizing them, or (if nothing else) starting a dialogue to get the process started meant that I would have the support system I needed in my marriage and when it crumbled down around me. I had, in effect, done the work I needed to do in order to have an Emergency Response Team braced and ready.

You see, weddings are the perfect excuse to comb through the back files of your friendship. Weddings are not just the transition point for our love lives. In theory, your entire life progresses into a new phase. Yes, you have an incredibly wonderful and supportive partner standing before you who will be there with you when life’s challenges are too hard to face on your own. Yes, you’ll have a willing and delighted co-parent (for babies or animals, obvs) who will navigate things like nursing pads (or puppy pads), potty training (or potty training), and co-sleeping (or co-sleeping). You’ll always have a date to outdoor concerts, other people’s weddings, and Great Aunt Lucille’s eighty-fifth birthday party. You’ll have someone to blame when the dishes aren’t done, too. You’ll have someone there.

Until you don’t. Because they left you. Or you left them. Or “irreconcilable differences” happens. Or, heaven forbid, they die.

When your marriage disintegrates less than six months after your wedding, it’s incredibly difficult to find a way to reconcile the labor involved in putting together a wedding in the first place (let alone the months/years you dedicated to the relationship itself). When my ex left me, a cacophony of feelings erupted inside of me and left me feeling overwhelmed to the point of almost being immobile for many weeks. One of the most prominent feelings was that I, nay we, defrauded our friends, family, and guests. Wrestling through that in therapy has helped bring me perspective. I’ve also encouraged myself to not feel guilty because my dedication to my ex was authentic, my commitment clear and true, and the energy I put into planning our wedding was honest.

What left me feeling most unsettled, though, was this seemingly unanswerable question: who do I have left? Read More…