By JOSEFA PETE
I had the dream wedding. The fairytale. The extravagance. For two years I consumed my time, my mind and my every essence with preparing for the “big day”.
I had a team of supporters. I needed a team. My family. My in-laws. My cousins. The excitement was contagious. The momentum unavoidable.
I was young and I knew what I wanted. There was very little that stood in the way of my dreams becoming my reality.
I became the Bride. Picture perfect .
Perhaps I was not as tall as the models in the magazines, but certainly full of the glow and radiance only a white dress, veil and diamonds can bring. Diamonds, oh diamonds. They are still the pain in my side. But I’ll leave that for another time.
The details were meticulous. I read every magazine. I searched every internet site. Looked for every possibility. I went to bed dreaming of phalaenopsis and woke up thinking of shades of purple and butterflies. I scampered across Melbourne to source the best fabrics, the best designers, the best photographers, the best videographers. There was not one thing I went without.
The big day came and it was exhilarating. Exceptional. Surpassed even my wildest dreams. Yes, in every essence it was perfect. Not one thing I would change. My parents were glowing with pride. My friends were still in shock from the theatrics of it all. I was complete. I had reached my dream, the perfect wedding, the perfect day.
So much energy. So much time. Planning and adjusting, refining and polishing. Making sure everything was just right. No time spent thinking about the next day. Or the next day. Or the one after that. Or the one after that. The thing that comes after a wedding. The marriage.
No, not one minute was spent thinking about being married and what that would mean. No planning. No attention to meticulous detail. I didn’t read one magazine or scour one internet site. The day after the wedding meant rest, sleep and a long deserved break on my honey moon. Not once did I think about what it would mean to be someone’s wife.
Poor little Alice. All glammed up in my wedding dress and veil. There I was staring down the rabbit hole, about to fall in.
Ten years have passed since that wedding day. Yet I still remember our first year. We had both lived at home until we were married. Comfortable, traditional, European homes.
So when we got married and moved out, it was a huge first for the both of us. Juggling work and house was hard. In my usual way I tried to do too much. Keep it Picture Perfect. But I realise now that the first year was neither good nor bad. It just was. What was bad, was my perception of that first year.
Looking back now, that first year was simple. I was the one who was difficult. I think that in my need to be in control, I was in fact my own White Rabbit. Perhaps even, there was no rabbit hole.
I had a mental checklist. I was trying to keep up the illusion. An illusion I had created, but thought was perfectly real. I thought I was being watched. Being tested. I could not fail. But now I can see – that no one was even watching.
Josefa Pete lives in Melbourne. She battles through motherhood and life, with her false eyelashes and a non-stop supply of coffee. Her big-extended family and boisterous boys give her many reasons to find her sanity through her words. You can follow Josefa’s blog and her Twitter. You can also find her on Facebook here.
Top Comments
I'm sorry, but I have no sympathy for those obsessed with a fairytale wedding- the fact that you have obsessed over the one day and not thought at all about the concept of marriage does not seem an oxymoron in the slightest. The image of perfection that you want to achieve does not go with the drudgery of daily life, so why would you think about that?
I wish people would stop being so materialistic about their weddings- the perfect dress, the perfect cake, etc etc and start putting at least the equal amount of thought (if not more- because it IS important) into who it is that they are marrying and how compatible their life goals are with each other.
The huge rise in wedding costs parallels with the huge rise in divorce. So maybe think about how that as well as the centrepieces.
I'm 22 and my partner and I have only been together for just under 2 years.
We live together and have 10 month old twin boys. We have a marriage. And it is really, really hard. But we work hard at it, and make it work.
All young couples around us who don't live together, don't have kids, are engaged to be married within the next 12 months. (I'm talking 3 this past year, all under 23)
We let them know it's hard, and you have to work at it, to enjoy the time, and wait a little... not long after marriage comes a baby with most.. and that's a whole other ball game.
We know one day we will get married, when we can afford the wedding we would like, when our kids are old enough for us to be away on a (well deserved) honeymoon, but most importantly for us - we see 'The Wedding' to be a celebration of our love, of how far we have come together, and how far we will go together.
In my opinion, SOME women get the idea (well those around me getting married) that it's 'The beginning' of their lives together, their new journey, a change in lifestyle, an adventure. (all these are on some level true) but I think they are setting them selves up for a big reality check slap in the face as to how that adventure/journey/lifestyle actually is - perhaps if a wedding is seen as a 'celebration of love' (which I believe it once was, but has changed due to the billion dollar industry) instead of 'The beginning' - they won't go into it being in some way let down. - I'm not saying all women or majority are like this, but from those around me, it's ALL about the wedding... and then comes LIFE... and they seem to forget life isn't easy, and can be pretty generic. Work, money, cooking dinner, washing, cleaning, a few dinner dates, a movie here or there, saving for a house, a holiday.. etc.
Maybe I am just a tad envious of the naive love bubble those have about their wedding.. but I guess I also am glad I know what to expect after our perfect day.