After graduating college, I spent time editing old stories, but I mostly planned my wedding. My fiancé was a roofer, but he found a job in his field of study not even a month after graduating. As you can imagine, I was thrusted into the role of housewife and wedding planner.
I think my fiancé was the most helpful for picking the cake. Everything we—I— chose for the wedding wasn’t as simple as it seemed. Even picking cake involved choosing five different combinations of icing, filling, and cake to taste test, which I’m not complaining about eating at all. The cake choosing was the most enjoyable because it was the only time I felt we both spent quality time together and decided as a couple.
After months of planning, I was sick of my wedding a month before it even happened. I didn’t want to speak to anyone about it, think anymore about it, or hear another thing about it. I spent my entire summer, the first summer ever in my life free of not returning to school at the end, stressing about getting a job and planning a wedding.
Everything was extrapolated, and I was beginning to lose hope in planning when no one can prepare enough for such a large event. Coronavirus sent us into a tizzy of concerns as well, which nearly made me give up. I hated the idea of planning everything once again next year or maybe even later. Juggling a schedule that will work for the venue, caterer, photographer, makeup artist, hair stylist, and whoever else seemed ten times worse than having a wedding in the middle of a pandemic.
Thankfully, I had ample support and help from my mom, stepmom, and mother-in-law, but remaining positive in the midst of COVID-19 and wedding/house/family/job stress felt overwhelming. By the end, I felt like I had to fake being excited for everyone else’s sake, which most likely wasn’t believable at all.
As someone who loves romance and writing love stories, I will say weddings are overrated and misrepresented in most romantic literature. The amount of work it takes to make a couple of people look like they are living a fairytale for a few hours isn’t worth it, in my opinion. To me, it’s more worth it to spend more time and money on going on an epic honeymoon.
Of course, even that can get wrecked by COVID-19 guidelines and states like Massachusetts.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m stoked to go to a wedding. There will only be more and more as we grow older, and I’m excited to show up, be fed, get drinks, and dance. The weddings are most certainly for the guests/families more than the couple.
As I waited to walk down the aisle with my dad, I told him I think this wedding was more of a big deal for the parents than for me or my husband. I can’t imagine watching a tiny human I made develop into an adult. Watching my own creation go from infant, giddy adolescent, moody teen to confused young adult would be humbling and cathartic.
So maybe weddings are worth it for the family’s sake, but I’ve become anti-stress oriented after all that I’ve had and all that I know is left to experience in life. So maybe weddings aren’t worth the stress.
Thankfully, I most likely won’t remember the stress and overwhelming feelings associated with the wedding. I’ll probably smile and look at the photos saying how lovely the day was and how beautiful everything looked and went. Our forgetfulness is deceitful, but it’s somewhat of a sweet gift.