Rage Against the Machine: Or, More Accurately, My First World Problem

It's been over a year since my last post. That was a difficult piece for me to write, one that I anguished over. It was intensely personal, and that terrified me. I've been trained to be wary of posting things on "the Internetz," and even though my social media habits are pretty un-extraordinary, the paranoia is hard to shake.

This piece is another one I've been hemming and hawing about for a while.

On the evening of December 1, 2014, my boyfriend got down on one knee. When he stood up, he was my fiancé. Both of us tend to counteract our affection for each other with sarcasm (or do other people follow up their proposals with "Gotcha, sucker!"?), so just writing those two sentences has made me uncomfortable. So I'll just leave the mush with this: I love him more than bears. All the time. And I am very excited to marry him.

Taking cute engagement photos like a coupla schmucks.

If you're thinking "Hmmm...that sounds like a disclaimer," you'd be right. You see, I've been struggling with how to discuss my wedding with other people. I'm really excited to marry the love of my life (okay, that's the last of the mush), and I'm really excited to have a party with booze and good food and cupcakes, and I'm really excited that I have an excuse to drag beloved friends and family members from across the country to celebrate with us. And it's a pretty significant part of my life at the moment--in fact, get me going, and there's a distinct possibility you'll regret bringing it up or letting me bring it up.

But a lot of people are telling me how much I should enjoy planning my wedding. I love how positive and excited people are, and I try to match that energy, but I'm not sure if "enjoy" is the word I would use sometimes.

There are things I have enjoyed doing. I loved picking out our save the dates. I loved dress shopping with my mom. I love making flowers out of book pages, the one DIY thing I'm capable of. I can't wait to have a menu tasting later this summer. There are some things that aren't so fun--paying deposits, setting up appointments, keeping track of the budgets--but that comes with the territory of planning a big event.

But frankly, the closer the wedding day gets, the more anxious I get. Not about my choice in future husband. Not about something going wrong on the big day (though it would be stressful and upsetting). Nothing has to be "just so." Right?

After all, we'll be surrounded by people who love us (or, at least, generally tolerate us). They're excited for us (or at least excited enough for the free food and alcohol to fake it). As long as we get married and they get to celebrate with us, we've done our job. A fancier party with beautiful (and themed) décor is just a bonus. Right?

Yes and no.

And isn't my wedding day supposed to be MY day? Isn't this the day where the bride gets to be pampered and adored and loved and celebrated and complimented and just be a princess? Isn't this the day where everybody else--mom, grandma, bridesmaids, planner, officiant, vendor, even the groom--has to drop everything and solve the bride's problem? Right?

Yes and no.

You see, that's what the blogs and the shows and the magazines and general culture tells you: it's your day, honey. You're the bride. You want to wear a tiara? Great. Bedazzle yourself--we've got edible rhinestones to add even more glam to the cake. Want to wear your cowboy boots? Show 'em off! You can even do bandana pocket squares for the groomsmen! Is your favorite color purple? Here's a selection of color palettes to coordinate those plum bridesmaid's dresses with the groomsmen's bow ties!

That's what the "biz" tells you: it's your day, and we have this great machine that churns out all the advice and tools and props to make it everything you want it to be.

Here's what it doesn't tell you:

You're upset because the napkins aren't "just the right shade of green?" Wow, way to be a demanding bridezilla. You don't care if your bridesmaids wear their hair up or down? Everybody hates a bridechilla (I swear I'm not making this up) who can't make her own decisions. You want to save money? DIY your centerpieces, sure, but how can you think about nixing a videographer or photo booth? You have your heart set on the art museum? That's so funky and reflective of your personality--but you have to have a full meal, and you can't afford one from any of the three caterers that they allow you to use.

They tell the bride* that the only expectations she has to meet are her own, all the while feeding her new expectations on Pinterest boards and reality shows and wedding blogs. (*Caveat: Grooms can be affected by this too, but brides are the target audience of most of the wedding industry.)

And I've bought in to it. Lord help me, the wedding industry got me good.

I thought I'd be immune--I was never the girl who had many ideas about how my wedding day would look. I figured my dress would be white, my family would be there, and I would get to slow dance with the boy of my dreams. I didn't even attend a wedding until I was sixteen, so I had no point of reference. And when my mom talks about her wedding, it's usually about one of two things: 1.) how she disliked her dress, the simplest one she could find in 1984, and 2.) how it only mattered that she, my dad, and God were there. I guess it's accurate to say that my mom is a marriage person, not a wedding person.

And, thankfully, I was in college before Pinterest became a thing (or I was in college before I realized Pinterest was a thing. I'm pretty slow to get on any social media bandwagon). When I did join, it was weird to see so many girls my age--most of them not even dating--with wedding boards. But I quickly learned that this was pretty normal on Pinterest. There were even women with wedding boards who are already happily married. But, knowing that it would be unhealthy for me to have one (and, yes, because I'm a little judge-y), I made and kept a pact with my best friend that I wouldn't start a wedding board until I was engaged. So I rarely gave wedding-related pins more than a passing glance.

In my naïveté, I also thought I'd be immune to most wedding trends because, frankly, a lot of them don't interest me. I didn't want an over-the-top wedding with a ballroom and five-tier cake, but I didn't want an outdoor wedding with hay bales and mason jars either. I didn't want to spend a ton of money, but I'm too lazy and untalented to do 99% of DIY projects. So I thought I fell into the between place, the happy medium. I thought all those "perfect wedding" photos and articles wouldn't affect me, because I'm a special snowflake with my own ideas.

In a way, I'm right. I'm engaged now, with three months until The Big Day, but I've still ignored at least 95% of wedding pins. My family (and his) have been nothing but supportive and helpful. My fiancé and I have decisively prioritized based on what we want on our day and at our party, and most of the advice we've gotten has been solicited. I'm a lucky bride in my little bubble.

But still, the doubt creeps in. Every decision I've made has been colored by fear because of the expectations I've unknowingly swallowed and accepted as my own. Does my beloved wedding dress really fit my also-beloved venue? Do I need to have a theme? Is my color palette in keeping with the season? Will Grandma be mortally offended if I don't give her a corsage? Do I have to buy wedding favors? Should I cover up my tattoo? How long can I talk about my weird wedding anxieties before someone wants to smack me?

Answer: their mileage may vary.

The crazy thing that I've found is that my lifetime of experience with anxiety has actually been a blessing (never thought I would say that). It definitely heightens these worries and fears, but it has also made me very good at recognizing their source. I can pick my voice out of the chorus of doubts (though sometimes a stressed-out phone call to Mom is necessary) and forage on ahead. That, combined with the aforementioned fortune of such a supportive family, has prevented me from being a blithering idiot for more than a few hours at a time.

Based on the many articles I've read, I'm not the only bride or groom who feels the tug-of-war between self and others. Your wedding is supposed to be a reflection of you and your values and your tastes. After all, everyone likes a spin on a classic, a bit of a change-up--but there's a reason why you never deviate from the family recipes on Thanksgiving. A lot of people at that table are going to be disappointed that Grandma's sweet potato casserole or the French's green bean casserole has been replaced by some imposter with truffle oil or pancetta. Not that the new dish necessarily tastes bad--in fact, it could taste way better--but it's not what you've been looking forward to all year.

Your wedding is supposed to be what you want--but it still has to feel like a wedding.

But no one seems to agree 100% on what is absolutely necessary for a wedding to be a wedding anymore. In a truly traditional Western wedding, the bride's job was to show up in her best dress (white not necessary), say the vows to her groom in a church, and then eat the food her parents/community/servants had decided was best for the occasion. Now? Couples write their own vows. They have fun photo shoots on the courthouse steps. Grooms have ditched the tux. Cake can be replaced with ice cream sundaes or pies. Flowers can be replaced with books and brooches and even Lego figurines. Stiff family portraits aren't as important as goofy shots of the wedding party. The way couples of all shapes, sizes, genders, and cultural backgrounds have turned their Big Day into THEIR Big Day is pinned and shared and liked and commented on and...judged.

One of my new favorite blogs, Offbeat Bride, specializes in showcasing the weddings you don't normally see on Pinterest--Celtic handfastings, brides in ridiculously dapper menswear, and cosplaying wedding parties abound. But even they, with their community so dedicated to uplifting and helping couples who want to throw some or all tradition out the window, have been plagued by judges. The creator of the site even wrote a post calling out the meanies (read it here: http://offbeatbride.com/2008/07/tacky). My favorite line?

Tacky: the dark monster that creeps in at night … tacky is the manifestation of your fears that people won't approve of your wedding.

Weddings have become so deeply personal, yet so subject to the judgment of others. I've been so guilty of that judgment, even as I worry about it being turned on myself. I know someone is going to be disappointed or disapproving, because there if there is one sure thing about this word (besides death and taxes), it is that you can't make everyone happy. Period. As a people-pleaser, that stresses me out a little (and sometimes more than a little).

To be honest, it makes me angry. I want to enjoy wedding planning without having to deal with all this stuff. Parties aren't usually my thing, so to have one tailor-made for me? Unbelievably exciting. But I constantly find myself asking the same question: Is this necessary because it's necessary to me and mine, or is it necessary because it's what the wedding business tells you is necessary? And sometimes the answer is hidden way deep under layers of tradition and etiquette and Pinterest and doubt. Sometimes I can't find the answer at all. (I still have no idea why wedding favors are a thing, especially since it's the first thing wedding websites tell you to ditch if you're on a budget--but also the thing they've tried to sell me the most.)

I've been doing my best to maintain my sense of self--after all, I'm not just a bride. It's one pretty exciting day, but the plan is to have a lot more of those--just with a husband as my partner in crime. I've made choices from the beginning to make The Big Day more low-key. I've kept my now-extant (and, yes, helpful) wedding board secret. I've asked for the opinions of people I trust--my mom, my fiancé, my best friends, my future mother-in-law--but also try to keep the majority of our discussions unrelated to the wedding. And, knowing that I'm totally buying into the wedding machine and enabling my not-so-nice snarky side by allowing my inner wedding critic to opine, I'm trying to exorcise her.

As the wedding day gets closer, the more I realize that I need an attitude adjustment:

Good for you, not for me. --Amy Poehler

Don’t pick on people, jump on their failures, criticize their faults— unless, of course, you want the same treatment. That critical spirit has a way of boomeranging. It’s easy to see a smudge on your neighbor’s face and be oblivious to the ugly sneer on your own. Do you have the nerve to say, ‘Let me wash your face for you,’ when your own face is distorted by contempt? It’s this whole traveling road-show mentality all over again, playing a holier-than-thou part instead of just living your part. Wipe that ugly sneer off your own face, and you might be fit to offer a washcloth to your neighbor. --Matthew 7:1-5 (The Message, purely for the use of "boomeranging")

If they don't like it, they don't have to come. --Mom

Right now, I'm selfishly focusing on the hope that others will give me the grace and space conveyed in those words. I need that hope to quiet all the voices of the wedding machine, which are totally cramping my style. But it's a two-way street--I need to be more thoughtful about applying that grace and space to others.

I can't think of a wedding where I haven't had fun--dancing or not, booze or not, perfect weather or not, sit-down dinner or not, wedding favors or not. So I'm going to focus on that
--for everyone else's sake as well as my own.

Except if there's fondant. That stuff is gross.

Pictured: something that is not frosting pretending to be as delicious as frosting.
(from recipes.howstuffworks.com)