If I could offer one piece of advice to future brides about their wedding day, it would be this: create intimate moments.
I woke up on my wedding day at 4 a.m. in the fetal position. I was a total ball of nerves – I think I ate one bite of a blueberry bagel the entire day, and felt like I was having a complete out-of-body experience. It wasn’t cold feet, it was just impossible for me to process the gravity of the day and bear the weight of the expectations I had set for such a profound event.
In hindsight, I can see that my wedding weekend was like a well-planned wave that I was riding. My bridesmaids began arriving on Thursday, we had a lake day with the boys and my bachelorette party on Friday, and on Saturday we had a bridal luncheon and rehearsal dinner. Sunday was the wedding day, fetal position day.
The older I get, the more I realize that I have a deep need for processing experiences. If I don’t, I can’t be present. I’ll shut down on the big days if I don’t have a moment to breathe. I am Stonewall Jackson. I don’t cry, I just get steely and uptight. It happens when I have big “goodbyes.” It happened at high school graduation and college graduation. Unfortunately, I always realize that too late in the game. On my wedding weekend, my bridesmaids were everything that I needed them to be and more – thrilled, squeal-y, prayerful, thoughtful, helpful, and SO fun. So was my family! As is so often the case, the problem wasn’t my circumstances, the problem was me.
Now, I have to give myself a little grace. This was my first rodeo, and I’d only been in one wedding previous to my own – I had no idea what I was doing or what to expect. But in hindsight, I realize that from Thursday – Sunday, I didn’t have a moment alone. Not a moment for thought, for prayer, to write, or to just be. Not a moment to process what was happening to me or the commitment that I was making. And when I woke up at 4 a.m. on June 22, 2014, I was too far gone. I did not know what to do with myself. I did not know how to feel. I was Ricky Bobby.
All was not lost – I remember clinging to my dad just before walking down the aisle, and saying vows that I really meant. I remember dancing with my dad and laughing our heads off. And it worked! I got married to the love of my life. I really think God was glorified in our ceremony. Pictures were taken. People danced. Nearly everyone I love was there, even though I didn’t get the chance to talk to many of them. We left in a blaze of glory/sparklers and in the aftermath, I think it took me approximately three days to feel emotionally available.
Many brides describe their wedding day as a blur, and I don’t claim to be offering a conclusive solution to that problem. But – I can tell you what I would have done differently. I would have tried to create intimate moments.
I would have stolen an hour of time just with Bryant the night before our wedding to talk about how excited we were, to pray together, and to be giddy. I would have taken time just with my mom, and just with my dad, to process that I was about to leave them and become one with my husband. I would have taken some time to myself to pray and understand my emotions.
I’ve seen friends do this well. I know couples who have taken 10 minutes after their ceremony before pictures and before the reception just to process together the fact that THEY’D JUST BEEN MARRIED. Our friends Haylee and Nick had a “last dance” together – everyone stepped outside of their reception venue to line up and prepare for their exit, and they had one last dance together alone before leaving.
This post is not about the first-world problem of not having a “perfect” wedding. Reflecting on my wedding day allows me to realize that I have wasted too much time waiting for life’s “big” moments, only to miss those moments because I don’t know how to be present in them. It has been hard for me to admit that I have regrets about my wedding day, and the perfectionist in me has had a hard time letting this go. I feel like there’s pressure to pretend that it was a perfect day. It was intrinsically good, but it wasn’t perfect.
Taking the time to reflect on this day helps me see times in my life where I’ve failed to be, as Shauna Niequist says, present over perfect.
Present over perfect looks like laughing my head off with Anna Dimock at her rehearsal dinner as we try to cut a chocolate cake and it crumbles all over us and into the floor.
Present over perfect looks like taking the scenic route home with my dad after work, even it if takes longer, just to enjoy the time together.
Present over perfect looks like giving up on the fancy meal I tried to make that ended up gross, throwing it in the trash, and ordering a pizza + jumping in the lake with Bryant instead.
Present over perfect looks like laughing at myself when I spilled raspberry vinaigrette all over my khaki pants at work and laughing instead of crying. (I think?)
Sometimes I get this right, but I too often get it wrong. I am praying that God gives me, you, us more opportunities to live more fully wherever we are!