Wedding Day - public reality and private reality

My Public Reality: Wedding Day


The sun came out as we all entered the church. What a lovely day it turned out to be. The flowers, ribbons and bows were beautifully arranged around the sanctuary. It was a great day for a wedding. True, the couple hadn’t dated long but they seem so in love. Both had experienced many things and were old enough to know they were ready to settle down.

The bride appeared at the doorway, looking beautiful. The dress and veil seemed to give her a luminous glow. She must be so excited and anxious, but it doesn’t show. It was a lovely ceremony, followed by a wonderful celebration. The couple was never out of each others reach, through the dinner, cake cutting, hugging and well wishing. The bride’s smile never faded. It must be the happiest day of her life. The newlyweds finally found each other and with a little luck, they would live happily ever after.


My Private Reality: Wedding Day

It started out as a rainy September morning. Months of planning, preparations and arrangements were all in place. It was my “wedding day.”

I was 26 years old, not exactly a young and foolish girl rushing into something. No, I was 26, with old loves and relationships behind me. How did I end up on a run-away freight train that was barreling out of control? Why didn’t I have the guts or the backbone to put the brakes on and stop it?

My fiancé pressured me to move the date closer and closer until I gave in. Looking back, I can’t help but wonder if he feared I would find the strength to walk away and out of his control, if we waited too long. Keeping me busy, without much time to analyze may have been his reason, I can’t say for sure. Can’t put all the blame there though. There is the issue with my mother. With two older sisters who were married and had given her a few grandchildren by the time they were my age I was starting to look like an old maid to her. She seldom missed an opportunity to let me know her feelings on that subject.

In all honesty, the choices were mine and no one else to make. Yes, I could have called it off, sent everyone home, returned the gifts, and gave up the money for the dinner, photographers and all the rest, but I didn’t. My wedding party, family and friends probably would have forgiven me in time, for the expenses they had incurred from clothing to shoes to hairdressing, and whatever else they would add to the list.

We’ll never know. The story didn’t happen that way. That morning I got up like a good little girl and made myself into the “blushing bride”. I appeared at the door of the church as planned and began my slow march toward the alter. With each step, I am ashamed to say I knew in my heart it was a mistake to marry this man. Knowing that I couldn’t and wouldn’t call it off, I resolved then and there to make it work. I would be the best wife and partner I could be. This was my road to walk and see through forever, no matter what difficulties may come.

I wasn’t sure what a good marriage was, but I vowed to do everything in my power to make it one. Maybe with my determination and a little luck, we could live happily ever after.

We didn't.