Hey guys! I’d love it if you pop on over to Blisstree to read my feelings about changing my name after marriage. It’s a topic that really interests me, because it evokes A LOT OF FEELINGS. Not that I’m saying it evokes ambivalence for everyone–some people have always known they won’t/will change their name–but typically people have strong feelings about their personal choice. Anyway, I’m interested to hear your thoughts! Well, not if your thoughts are, “Why are you talking about this I hate you and you’re dumb,” in which case keep your thoughts to yourself, weirdo. Just kidding, I know you wouldn’t even think that. You’re a doll! Never change!
Posts Tagged: marriage
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.
I’m not saying we’re never going to get married. In fact, it will probably happen sooner rather than later. But people asking me when I’m going to get married bothers me, and it isn’t because I have problems with the institution of marriage itself (although that can be pretty problematic!) or the state of my relationship with my boyfriend (which is pretty swell!). Instead, my problem with people asking “When are you getting married?” is best summed up in two questions: “How is this your business?” and “Why do I have to get married?”
Growing up, I never dreamed of getting married. I assumed I would, because I grew up in a culture with a pretty traditional view of families, but it wasn’t something I daydreamed about. I never dressed up as a bride for Halloween. I didn’t “play house” much with other kids–mostly because because I rarely played with other children and preferred to hang out by myself, reading. Instead, I daydreamed about writing my first book (dorky but true).
Then, in high school, I became convinced I’d never get married. I simply could not imagine myself being happy as a married person. Let’s be real—I didn’t have any boyfriends (not even weird ones!) in high school, so it’s not like people were lining up to propose. But when I saw girls I knew getting married, like, right out of high school, I knew I would never do that. I saw myself as an adult living alone, being vaguely “artisitic,” probably wearing several jewel-toned scarves. I saw myself with a cat I named after a feminist writer, knowing things about wine, and entertaining many, many temperamental and volatile men who would inspire me to write the tempestuous prose and poetry I’d become known for. I saw myself being weird and alone and happy.
And then I met H. when I was 19, and we’ve been together ever since. You’d think this might be cause for celebration, and it is for me! But it’s not for almost literally every person I know, including but not limited to family, friends, and complete strangers.
I get asked what I’m waiting for, why I’m not married, why H. hasn’t proposed, why I haven’t forced him to propose, when I’m going to “just do it already,” and various other things. All of these questions are based around a few assumptions:
1. I have to get married.
2. I want to get married but H. will not ask me.
3. It’s normal for one person to force the other person to marry them.
4. Marriage is a box you need to check off your list.
5. If I’m not married it means I’m afraid of something.
6. I sit around all day and wait for H. to propose to me.
7. I am sad and pathetic.
Naturally, quite a few of these assumptions offend me, as a feminist and as a human being. For one, most of them put me in a passive role. Just sittin’ around waitin’ for the proposin’ to happen! Secondly, they assume that I need to complete this task in order to graduate to the next phase of my life. Simply put, this is people foisting their life values onto me, and I don’t appreciate it. A traditional life trajectory (marriage, house, babies) means a lot to some people, but it means very, very little to me. Do I want to have a house someday? Totally, but not anytime soon. Do I want kids? Yes, my biological clock reminds me of this every damn day, but not anytime even remotely soon. And do I want to get married? Sure, but it is not the end all, be all of my existence. There are a lot of things I want out of my life, and marriage is just one of the things on a long list that includes publishing a book, visiting a Scandinavian country, and finally successfully baking bread. And that’s where the assumption that offends me the most comes in. When people ask me these questions, what I hear from them is: Your achievements don’t matter to me. Your job, your friendships, your writing, your hopes, your dreams, your life that you’ve built yourself mean nothing, because you haven’t convinced someone to buy you jewelry and then spend many thousands of dollars on an expensive ceremony.
And as much as I’d like to be a super cool lady who can shrug off the narrow-mindedness of others, I’m just not that self-assured. It does not make me feel good when, unsolicited and on a regular basis, people let me know that my life is not measuring up to a standard I don’t even subscribe to. It’s weird, it’s patriarchal, it’s sexist, it’s dumb, and it’s just plain mean.
And you know what else it is? Really, really rude. In general, I think two questions should always be off limits except between very good friends: “When are you getting married?” and “When are you two having kids?” Both of those questions have the potential to be extremely upsetting! I mean, you guys, you don’t know if the couple you’re talking to had a fight that very morning about getting married. You don’t know if the couple you’re talking to recently found out they can’t have kids. You don’t know if they recently had a miscarriage—I mean, 1 in 5 pregnancies ends in miscarriage, you know? These are just rude, invasive, and nosy questions we should all stop asking.
Luckily for me, my close friends totally understand all of this. They’re a mix of married, single, engaged, and divorced people (divorced people are especially cool about not pressuring others to get married) who don’t see marriage as a just another box to check off on the list of life goals. That’s because my friends are awesome.
But, unfortunately, not everyone’s as cool, so I’ll just have to keep answering “So when are you getting married?” with a mixture of flip responses (“Whenever Drake asks me!”), frustrated answers (“When I feel like it.”), vague pleasantries (“Hahaha, someday!”), and subject changes (“Tell me more about your kids!”). It turns out that lecturing people about how their question offends me is not the best tactic to take when I’m talking to someone I’m probably going to have to see on a regular basis (like my grandma).
I love love. I love romance. I love romantic comedies, even (especially) the ones starring Katherine Heigl. I love reading the 50th anniversary announcements in the newspaper. I love seeing my friends get married! And, when I get married (someday!), you’d better believe I’m going to cry uncontrollably. But there’s a lot more to my life than that. I guess the good thing is that eventually, once I do get married, people will stop asking me about this. Then they’ll move on to asking me when I’m having kids. Something to look forward to!
For some reason, I’m kind of obsessed with Robin Thicke and Paula Patton’s relationship. They’re like my Jay-Z and Beyonce. Did you guys know they met in high school? And they’re still together? And he puts her in his videos/on the covers of his albums? I’m pretty sure Paula Patton might be in the running for title of Most Beautiful Woman in The World because, seriously, have you looked at her lately? I know I’m asking you a lot of questions. Sorry. So anyway, she’s insanely beautiful, and I think Robin Thicke is attractive but I’m not totally sure because every time I look at him I just see his dad.
If you’d like to look at a photogallery of Robin Thicke and Paula Patton, here you go, feel free to die of adorableness. Also, here’s his video for Love After War, in which Paula Patton refuses to ever wear pants and I start to feel uncomfortable because this is basically softcore porn.
Inspired by the heartfelt Keeping up With the Kardashians episode where Kris Humphries proposed to Kim.
Why are all these rose petals on the floor? Was the window open? Did the wind knock over a vase of roses? I didn’t even have any roses. Wait, are these spelling something out? Did this guy do this himself? Like, did he painstakingly petal-by-petal spell out these words? Did he have to hire someone? Is this something a florist would do? Where do you even buy rose petals? Or do you have to buy all the roses and then rip off the petals? Because I’m pretty sure I’d rather just have the roses. I swear to God, if I have to clean this up I’m going to freak. Like, I’m sure he’ll say he’s going to clean it up, but three months from now I’m still going to be finding rose petals under the bed, you know? I wonder what all these rose petals would feel like if I stepped on them with my bare feet?
Probably pretty good.