becoming a bride redux - part 4

And so: what did I mean when I said I felt like a bride?

I think what I meant was that I could finally envisage myself being the one in the dress, surrounded by those I love, marrying the man I adore.

For me, it’s as simple as that.

I could imagine the day, with us in it, and felt excited by it. There’s suddenly a picture in my head and it’s no longer a composite of wedding magazine and blog-worthy pictures. It’s ours.

When I first felt it, things had come together. A proto-ceremony existed, as did a drawing of the dress. We had almost all our RSVPs back, so I could see who would be there. I can imagine myself in a beautiful dress which I am excited about wearing. My figure won’t now change substantially in the next fortnight, even if I miraculously lose the 6lbs I’m aiming for (I get measured and have to maintain my weight after Saturday...so...probably not) so I can sort of see how the dress might actually work.

I can imagine it, and enjoy the imagining. That’s it. That doesn’t mean I’m going around boring people shitless talking about the minutiae. I got my shoes last week (Rachel Simpson, Flo – thank Christ these people exist, that is all I’m going to say. Possibly more than 95 per cent of wedding shoes are FUGLY or an unwearable 9 inch stiletto. WHY? Rachel Simpson, I love you), and was surprised my colleagues wanted to see them. I hadn’t even opened the box in the three hours since its arrival.

Stuff is ticking away. And side from a very minor rant about the loss of a glue gun, which J felt the brunt of last week (HOW did we LOSE a glue gun? HOW?) things are largely done quietly. I want people to be surprised, not to know every detail right now.

I was really pleased to have the wisdom of the three ladies on the blog last week. Siobhan’s post made me realise how much I dislike the separation of ‘bride’ from ‘groom’. I intensely dislike the idea that the wedding is all about the petulance and whims of the bride – and the selfish implications that carries. Early on, a friend asked me if I was ‘in the white zone’. No one, I would venture, has ever asked that of J. They might ask him if I AM obsessing over table decorations (for the record, no – I’m easily pleased) but would never assume that he was. They assume he is at a distance, watching me with bemusement and maybe buying a suit and organising the band. Kind of sad, really.

And Lisa-Marie and Dee’s posts were important reminders of the ludicrousness of the concept that our every waking hour should be spent thinking about an identity that we will occupy for merely one day. You are a bride for a day. You are a wife for ever.
And so concludes (for now) our mini series on ‘becoming a bride’. Sincere thanks to Siobhan, Lisa Marie and Dee for their fantastic posts.

And to any of you reading this, thinking ‘well, I have something to say on the matter’ – please email me (the address is on the right) with your thoughts and we’ll make this an ongoing thing. Our experience of what it means to deal with the expectations of others are rich and varied, and to nosy folk like me at least, very interesting.