I’ve been thinking about writing this post for a while (ever since the photo above was taken, in fact), but somehow, in the rush and madness of a wedding, throwing out words into the internet ether never seems to get to the top of the list.
To be fair, though, sometimes it doesn’t seem like we’re really doing this wedding lark quite “properly”. As many relatives have pointed out, we skipped a whole bunch of things you usually expect in favour of things we liked much more. We failed to waltz around in meringues even in practice. We pretty much neither turned into bridezilla and the only hen party we could have claimed ended with 10 year olds dressing us in shower curtains.
I can’t say that I feel much like a blushing bride either. Never mind that meringue, I bought my shoes last week, haven’t even thought about my hair and make up, and, let’s face it… I don’t think I’m going to lose that extra three stone I put on overnight.
But the thing that made me write this post is the photo above. When I saw that photo (taken on May Day) that a friend had posted on facebook, I got it. I knew the bride feeling. Because it captures a moment where fuck how I feel about my appearance, I am embodying being the person I want to be. I am proud to live that me. I am being that best me, and I can tell.
That will be my tomorrow. I may look fat, my hair will end up mussed, god knows about the make up and let’s hope nothing breaks/splits/falls off. But I will be a bride. I will be marrying the girl I love and making public the commitment, the marriage that I do and will celebrate every day. It’s a little thing, but perhaps that is the big thing.
Here’s to those tomorrows. I can’t wait.