How important are traditions? To our sense of celebration? To our sense of importance? To making memories? To building a feeling of solidarity with your loved ones?
I’m a pretty informal person. I live in tank tops and comfy pants (yoga pants, sweat pants, leggings… pretty much anything that someone would like to sleep in). I grew up in Vancouver – that’s just how I roll. I’m a coffee carrying, flip-flop wearing, zip-up hoody kind of girl.
So it probably comes as no surprise that I don’t put a lot of weight into formalities. I address all my emails “Hi _____”, never “Dear ______” (even when my old boss told me too). I really insist on being myself and interacting in a way that comes naturally.
When I worked in the corporate world, I got to a point where I refused to wear button-up shirts since knit tops were not only much comfier but also less stuffy-looking. I cringe at black suits and white shirts. I cringe at girls walking in heels that are clearly killing their feet. I cringe at any action that is a response of society telling you to do something/be something that you’re not.
But I digress… Back to the topic: All this revolt against formality translates over into tradition.
I’m not big on tradition either.
Having recently gotten engaged, I’ve found myself wondering a lot about this. At 31, I’m definitely in the tail-end of my friends getting married. Weddings are so 2-3 years ago, now its babies that are all the rage. I’m no trendsetter in this area. And I’m perfectly content to lag behind.
I have been to maybe 20 weddings in the last 4 years.
and I’m tired… is that weird?
Let me be totally honest: I love weddings. I love the love, the hope, the emotion and all the happy vibes that come from a wedding. They make me happy. It’s an event about love, how can you go wrong?
But I’m loathe to organize my own wedding. Is it wedding fatigue? Or am I just lazy?
I kinda just feel like getting married on a beach in a flowy dress, a few hippy-esque flowers in my hair and where the guests come in shorts and no shoes. Just a gathering of all my favourite people – no more, no less. No politics. Just fun people, having a fun time on a beach. With music, dancing and hopefully some impromptu singing. That sounds like my kind of scene.
No running order. No timekeeping. No throwing the bouquet. No garters. No cutting of the cakes. No drama. Most importantly, no bridezilla.
But there’s a little voice in my head (I have no idea’s whose voice it is!) who keeps nagging at me: “If you don’t do a proper thing, you might regret it later.”
* sigh * Really?
A few months ago, I went to a wedding – I had been hearing about the preparations highs and lows for months. I was almost scared to attend because I had witnessed the amount of emotional investment in achieving this perfect event… and I just REALLY didn’t want anything to go wrong. I just did not want to witness any disappointment from the bride or groom after all their efforts.
Nothing did go wrong. It was a fabulous event, very personal, and very moving. Everyone was dressed to the nines, I felt like I was at the Oscars. There were fireworks. There were also tears. My tears. Even when the speeches were made in a language I didn’t understand, there were still tears flowing down my face.
And it brought me back to that nagging thought – maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to do the princess-wedding thing after all.
Oh dear. Decisions get harder when you waver.
Hasn’t it always a dream of mine of have a big white wedding with a big white wedding dress? I’m not sure, I can’t remember. Is that dream mine? Or something I picked up from TV?
My mum once told me she had always expected that my sister would get married on some lost beach somewhere and I’d have some big flash wedding (to go with my big flash corporate life). Well, my sister got married on a dude Ranch (but that’s a story for another day) and me… well… I left the flash corporate career behind
… does that take the flash wedding with it?
The truth of it is that big flash wedding was me once. I would have fit in perfectly into that scene, into that dream. I would have wanted it. I would have felt at home in that space.
But it’s just not me anymore.
And oh-em-gee, how quickly that changed. If my fiancé had asked me to marry him 3 years ago, this might have been a very different blog post. Who am I kidding, I never would have been blogging back then. It’s all part of the change.
I think part of living life is recognizing who you are at any given moment.
And recognizing that we change and we evolve.
And knowing that changing is a good thing. A really good thing. We should ride that change with eager anticipation of where we go next.
And finally, knowing also that the most important thing is to act in a way that reflects our best understanding of ourselves. Who we are right now, not who we were 3 years ago.
Now I need to take my own musings to heart and translate this no nonsense idea into some sort of festivity…