Wedding Tip: Don’t Care About Anything

It’s not like I had my wedding planned out before I got engaged, but I’ll admit that I had a certain hazy vision of how the perfect day would go down. It would be in Fall, for sure, and it would definitely be outside. One of our friends would marry us and I’d walk down the aisle to my favorite Kinks song. There’d be nothing offensive or exclusive (i.e., no “marriage is between a man and a woman” talk or “wives submit to their husbands” bs). We’d all eat, like, artisinal pizzas baked by Stanley Tucci himself in his personal pizza hearth. And then we’d all dance all night under twinkle lights and everybody would get drunk on fancy cocktails.

Well, as it turns out, exactly none of that stuff is happening. The wedding that’s happening in reality is very, very different from the one that took place in my daydream brain. And why’s that? Well, for starters, Stanley Tucci won’t return my calls. But also, please don’t be too shocked by this, but weddings are subject to reality! And reality sometimes means you don’t get to follow your romantic, Anthropologie-catalogue, Pinterested whims!

Shortly after we got engaged and I started thinking of real plans for a real wedding, we decided to move the wedding up to Spring. So we’re getting married in April. In itself this doesn’t sound strange, but we’re getting married on April 20th. Did you read that? We’re getting married on 4/20. 420. 420 you guys. I’m getting married on a day that’s a universal symbol for toking up. For the rest of my life, my anniversary will be 4/20.

So okay. Whatever. I’ve dealt with that. But, obviously, getting married in Ohio in April means we can’t get married outside. Or, rather, we could, but it would be a really bad idea, because it could be snowing or raining. Since I had my heart set on a reception site in the middle of nowhere in my hometown, that meant we had to find an indoor ceremony site somewhere near that. Which meant our only option, practically, was a church.

Then H. gave me some serious pushback abut that Kinks song I wanted to walk down the aisle to, and anyway the church has to approve of all of our music choices and they probably don’t like that newfangled rocknroll the kids are listening to (from the 70s). The reception site is possibly dry or at the very least doesn’t have a bar. H. told me he would kind of like something “fancy” to eat. And then he told me he wanted seat covers? Like, what? Seat covers? Are we getting married in a hotel banquet room from the 1980s?

So I got upset and totally shut down because all of a sudden I was going to have a tacky wedding and I hated it and it was the end of the world. I bet you can tell where I’m going with this. It wasn’t the end of the world.

Because, honestly, a wedding is just one day. And even though you might see pictures of “perfect” wedding on Pinterest, they’re just pictures, you know? I mean, the whole evening wasn’t some magical twinkle light paradise. It’s one day. So what if I have to walk down the aisle to classical music instead of the song I originally picked? So what if our ceremony is going to be much more traditional than I’d planned? So what if everyone makes pot jokes whenever I tell them our wedding date? The important thing is that everyone we love will be there. That’s kind of the whole point of a wedding ceremony, right? To say your vows in front of everyone you care about?

So that’s my advice to any of you who are planning a wedding. Just stop caring about things. Let someone else plan part of it. If somebody’s bothering you about something, just say, “Okay, whatever.” Remember that it’s really, really not worth stressing out over when you have so much other stuff in your life that needs your attention. That’s what I’m trying to remind myself, anyway.

It’s very, very easy to get caught up in The Wedding Machine. People will start asking you questions you’ve never considered, and all of a sudden you’ll start wondering if you should be spending tons of money for flowers to put on the altar or for a super-fancy caterer or for a soft serve ice cream machine (okay, okay, so that last one was actually something I wanted that H. vetoed. I love ice cream, okay?) and you will get stressed out if you’re anything like me. Here’s what I keep reminding myself: every second I spend stressing out about this wedding is a second I’m not writing or reading or working or cooking or doing anything else that’s actually enjoyable. I want the day to be fun, of course, but not at the expense of my sanity.

Although, seriously, if any of you could get Stanley Tucci to show up, I’d really appreciate it.