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He Said No to a Wedding

This week, we’ve been exploring the idea of “Why a wedding?” Or as is the case today, “Why not a wedding?” Because sometimes, you need a wedding, even when you’re courthouse people, to validate your relationship when your country won’t legally do the right thing. Sometimes, you need to run off and get married among dinosaur bones to figure out what marriage means anyway. And sometimes, now is just not the time. Today’s post is from Sara. Sara invented the term wedding dropout, she fell in love and had a baby, she got engaged, she threw me a book party in Denver. And now she’s not getting married right now. Even though she planned a whole wedding in an afternoon. Which is sort of hard. But also sort of funny (God bless Sara). Let’s discuss.

APW Book Tour Denver Moodeous Photography (9)

He said NO to a wedding.

I should preface this by saying that I’m not angry by any means. Our lives are all about being practical and taking the time to do things we want the way we want. Unfortunately, that means my amazing spontaneous ideas (PS. I can coordinate a wedding in an afternoon, apparently. No joke.) are really a thing of my single girl past.

I had it all planned. A wedding in a beautiful pavilion in my favorite park with a gourmet food truck reception and frolicking in grass! So fun! And perfect for a family with a eight-month-old crazy crawler. Perfect. I patted myself on the back over this one. I had nailed it. It would be true to our lifestyles, to our budget (less than $1,500) and we’d have so much fun.

But I never took the time to consider or consult that groom guy.


Full story: I did email him earlier in the day and say I wanted to get married. I also added a second email saying, “No wedding, let’s just get married.”

I stand by the adage that as a woman I have the right to change my mind as often as I change my clothes. And I did just that between sending him that email at 10am and having the wedding all planned by 4pm.

Now, I have to admit, I have two very close friends getting married in opulent weddings later this year. So maybe, just maybe (a big maybe) I was getting a touch of wedding fever. Or I just wanted to feel pretty, or I wanted to feel special. Sometimes it’s hard to feel special when your baby is spitting in your face and your biggest accomplishment for the day is avoiding a poop disaster during a squirmy diaper change.

And having a family is f*cking awesome, but it’s also sorta exhausting at times. And it takes a lot of work and dedication and sh*t like that. Again, awesome, but with all the work some days, when I go to bed at seven p.m., I don’t feel special, or pretty, or glamorous or anything other than so happy Duncan is asleep so I can sleep.

There it is. Does a wedding actually make you feel pretty and special, or is that just crap I read on the Kn*t back in the day?

See, the thing here is an internal struggle between wanting to feed that part of me that says “me, me, me—I wanna be pretty!” and being a good partner and wifey and momma and all those other roles I play.

Plus we agreed on waiting until it makes sense financially for us, and with a looming furlough and rising rent, Duncan eating us out of house and home and OMG they just opened an H&M in Denver. (Yes, I know the obvious. Quiet, please…)

So Mike said no wedding. Right now. Even though I want to feel pretty, even though I want to feel special, even though I spent a whole afternoon carefully (ha) planning the cheapest, most fun wedding of all time, he said no.


I suppose what he wants for a wedding matters as well, and I need to continue to work on reconciling my independent streak with my new roles in a functional partnership. He says the three years we’re waiting will fly by. Still, lame. But I understand. And I accept 2015 as the year we’ll get married. *Winces.* That is so far from now. How am I going to feel pretty and special in the meantime?

Um, if anyone needs, I’m headed to H&M.

*Definition: interj. Used to express repudiation. Feel free to adopt it into your vocab.

Photo of Sara’s adorable shoes, by Kristy of Moodeous Photography in Denver

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