Last Saturday, I got married. Have you ever gotten married? It was so lovely. And it smelled wonderful. First of all, my husband is the coolest dude in the world. Secondly, being surrounded by fresh flowers—and I mean surrounded—is so underrated. You’ve got to try it. Drink it in. And thirdly, remember that that bottom layer of cake might be Styrofoam that’s there just to make the cake a bit taller, so don’t try to cut it. People will giggle. At you.
My wedding was beautiful and worshipful, but the reason I am telling you all about it is because if there ever were a time that the world puts some mighty pressure on your self-esteem, it’s when you’re a bride.
Aaron and I were engaged for a little over a year. After the first few months of planning, I got so frustrated with the "wedding industry" that I vowed we would only purchase decorations and other necessities that were not made specifically for weddings. They really try to get you. I mean, flip-flops with the word “bride” on them? I think the reason it’s tempting is because your first reaction is probably something like, “Oh my gosh this is the only day in my life I’ll be able to wear those! They must have made them for me!” But that’s not true, friends. I saw a pair of those flip-flops in Target … and then I saw another pair at Wal-Mart! Betrayal! There must be other girls out there getting married, too. Darn it.
Anyway, what I’m trying to say is I believe my guy and I did a pretty swell job of avoiding the wedding hype and keeping it simple, using a big dose of Aaron-and-Maria creativity. But despite that and Aaron’s humble prodding, I’m sad to say I totally lost it when it came to my own decoration.
Three months before the wedding, I went absolutely berserk in the personal hygiene aisle at Target. (I regularly say that if I ever win a million dollars, that’s where I’m spending it. It wouldn’t take me long, either. I could do it in 10 minutes. I could. I’ll call you and you can time me.) I bought teeth-whitening strips, expensive shampoo and conditioning treatments, self-tanner, special exfoliating body wash, night cream, day cream, afternoon cream (kidding) … you name it, I bought it. I decided if there ever were a time to want to look your best, this should be it; and the ridiculous amount of money I was spending was still righteous because it is my day!
So what transpired over the next three months was something everyone else in the world could’ve seen coming but that I, naturally, did not. Instead of all of those products making me feel beautiful and lovely, they made me more and more stressed out (yet, I admit, adequately moisturized). My brain said: "Am I doing enough? Did I apply this night cream correctly? Will my skin look good enough for my hair? Will everyone notice my smaller pores?" (They won’t.)
Through it all, Aaron continued to gently remind me that our wedding was about a promise, not about a reflection in the mirror or the pictures we frame later on. And I continued to do sit-ups.
What a metaphor that is for our struggle with our self-esteem. There could be something so big and so blessed going on—a wedding, a relationship, a new life chapter, a spiritual journey—and our way of caring about it most passionately is to concern ourselves with how we look doing it. Or how everyone else thinks we look. Instead of looking at our wedding as a big step and such a gigantic, undeserved blessing, I looked at it as the ultimate test in my own self-hygiene. I do believe part of that is a societal thing; all the stress the world puts on wedding planning obviously stretches to the bride’s appearance as well. But as a daughter of the flesh-blind God, it’s my job to keep level-headed about all that nonsense. I wish I could tell you I did.
But to finish the metaphor, let me tell you how my wedding panned out. The night before, I ate a huge plate of fettuccine alfredo at the rehearsal dinner. I have to tell you, it may have been the best half hour of my life. Without shame. And there were, like, crushed bits of oregano on it and this amazing parmesan cheese blend. … Anyway, the next morning I panicked a bit because I felt bloated and a little mad that I had gone slightly pasta-crazy. But as the morning wore on, I curled my hair, put on a dress and hugged my crying dad. And when I walked down the aisle to my tender-hearted, brown-eyed brother in Christ, my self-consciousness took the train to Albuquerque. I’m not kidding; and I’m not kidding when I say it is no small miracle. In my mind that day were only Aaron, my parents, our merciful God who somehow still finds me worthy to love and my promise. It was so beautiful and full of tears and fresh sunflowers and beef tenderloin and vanilla candles. And no “bride” flip-flops!
I had planned for months to look my best, and in one of the biggest moments of my life, I couldn’t have cared less. If you struggle like me, we are constantly trying to live up to some expectation; whether it’s looking "appropriately pretty" on your wedding day, wearing the "right shirt" to a party or not saying the wrong thing in a group of "cool" people. But at the end of the day, what we are doing will always matter so much more than how we look doing it.
My track record makes no promises, but I’m really hoping to learn from this experience. I know that what I remember about our wedding is not going to be the whiteness factor of my teeth or whether my skin was properly exfoliated. It’s the same for all of us: You’ll remember and truly be affected by the important things about your life—the times where you and God are working it together; not the trivial, self-interested times. So let’s all try to save time and not even give those trivialities our attention in the first place, what do you say?
(Disclaimer: if you enjoy “bride” flip-flops, do forgive my callousness.)
Maria is a recent college graduate from Ohio who just got married and moved to Arizona because she likes an adventure. She loves to write, run and sing and she is amazed every day by the love God has for her, even when she doesn’t comb her hair.
