I have to preface this with a few disclaimers. I love my family. I love my friends. I loved our wedding. That being said, not everything was sunshine and roses. There were some rough patches. I know the same is true of every wedding, but here it is.
I took Wednesday, Thursday and Friday off work to get ready for the wedding. Because of our budget constraints, there was a lot to do to prepare. Wednesday was devoted to errands and preparation. Thursday was entirely given over to cooking (the variety and quantity of things flying out of my kitchen still astonishes me). My mother, friends and I made muffins, cakes, chile verde, rice, all manner of things. It was so much work. I was so exhausted. Friday was more of the same, a trip to pick up my oldest from the airport, dashing home to finish packing (poorly), throwing boxes and trays of food in the car and flying to the rehearsal. Three days passed in the blink of an eye. Friday night, after the rehearsal and dinner, I tried to get settled into the hotel room. I had htings to finish, blouses to tailor, skirts to hem. I tried to get them done quickly. Somehow between that and having to fight to get a warm shower because our hotel was having some issues, I didn’t get to bed until 1.
I was back up at 4. Having the wedding so early, we had to get up super early to start getting pretty. I thought I would get my hair curled and while I was setting and everyone was getting their curled and makeup started, I could sleep sitting up a while. I don’t think I even sat down. I paced, I fussed. Eventually the photographers came and suddenly I was having my wedding dressed pulled over my head and my shoes slipped onto my feet and I was being sent out to see Drew for the first time.
We had our first look by the pool at our hotel. Drew was so nervous that his smile ever properly reached his mouth and I admitted to him later that I was concerned he wasn’t happy. Before long we were being bundled into cars and going to the church, where I did more standing and pacing and fussing. I had to stop and watch my friends, my wonderful friends, band together and get out the food and get everything ready to roll. It was so hard to stand there and wait.
I had to keep telling the coordinator and Brother that I wasn’t ready to start. My grandparents weren’t there yet and I couldn’t start without them. They arrived and were seated and the ceremony started.
I had some concerns about the ceremony. It was a lot more religious than either of us wanted, but it was still beautiful, and I was told by many of the guests that it was deeply touching and very personal. I managed to sneak in an inappropriate wink at Andrew, who was much too serious. Then, as one friend put it, we thumb-wrestled to become man and wife (we had to clasp hands around a two roses and had an awkward moment where we didn’t know what to do with our hands, ending in the thumb war pose), and it was done.
Unfortunately, we had to miss a significant portion of the reception at the church to do photos. There was a little family drama that, I regret to say, has left a few hard feelings between Drew and I and some of his family. But it passed. The problem starter left and the rest of the day was relatively drama free.
The last portion of the day, a party at my parents house with a pared down guest list, proper food and alcohol, was the best part of the day. I was finally able to relax, let my hair down a bit, with my closest loved ones. It was great. Looking back at it, in my memory it’s a lot of soft lights, bright colors, laughing. By the end, I was drunk, as much from exhaustion as the potent margaritas that my brother was making.
The next day, I still felt felt a little dizzy from the day before, but immediately like things could go back to normal, which was a relief. I had a little time to sit back and think about the week leading up to the wedding. The first thing I was struck by was how amazing my friends and family are and how some of the people who really stepped up the most to lend a hand were the most unexpected. Everyone lent a hand. Everyone. My best friends pregnant wife, my relationship with whom has been turbulent and not always very good, came to our hotel at 4:30am and started helping with hair. She washed dishes, she got food out, even though she was already immensely pregnant and in constant pain from her back. A friend who had mistaken the date of the wedding until just days before stayed after the ceremony to vacuum. My brother spent the evening cooking and mixing fearsome margaritas so that my parents could mingle. It was incredible. It was the best wedding present we could have asked for, the love and support of the community we’ve chosen to surround ourselves with.
As the weeks have passed, the golden day has been tarnished a little. I realized after the fact that although I felt the outpouring of love and was struck by it in such a meaningful way, other people in my life were disappointed, even hurt, by their role in the day, or lack thereof. There was a certain amount of fallout from the family drama. Between that, and the post-wedding-planning blues (I had spent months doing nothing but planning, and I suddenly had no plans to make, no details to work out, no crafts to finish, and it made me feel slightly adrift), I have vacillated between feelings of “Fuck ‘em if they don’t like it” and a sense of failure, because all I wanted from our day was for everyone to share our love and joy and I am still not sure we really accomplished that, even within our closest circle of friends. The bad feelings are amplified by how I felt leading up to it. I didn’t talk about it a lot, but the six or so months leading up the wedding were some of the loneliest and most isolated months of my life. I had help from people, but it was rarely the people I wanted help from. I felt like no one was listening, like no one cared but me. I lashed out at people who were trying to help as often as I lashed out at the ones who weren’t. I felt myself withdrawing, being less forthcoming with what I needed and wanted, more emotionally invested in being able to tell everyone I did it myself, without their help. I tried hard not to take it out on my friends, especially my bridesmaids, but I was in a true and deep depression.
Overall, right now… I feel like the wedding wasn’t worth it. Being married to Drew is worth almost anything I could think of. I would suffer all manner of horribleness to be his wife. But the wedding? I think I would have been happier in the courthouse. One day was not worth how crappy I felt before and how crappy I feel about it sometimes now that it’s done. We should have eloped.
I’m desperately scared of feeling like this later on in life. I try to hold onto the happy feelings while I’m having them. I guess time will tell.
On a lighter note, here’s a link to our wedding pictures: The Ramirez-Hudnall Wedding
