The Very Best Day

I couldn’t eat. My belly was full of anticipation and nerves, and that energy radiated out to my limbs, making my whole body abuzz. I looked across the breakfast table at my oldest friend, and she smiled. “Ready?” she asked, knowing the answer.

I nodded, wondering if this feeling would last all day, and if I was going to get the nervous diarrhea that is always my “plus one” on special days. It was my wedding day, and the logistics of pooping in a wedding dress worried me. Would my bridesmaids have to hold my skirt up? How would I wipe? That concern, as well as tripping while walking down the aisle were my greatest fears on this important occasion.

I wasn’t worried about the life changing event that was about to bind me to one person for the rest of my life. I knew him, and he knew me. Ours had always been the easy kind of relationship where we just fit, from the very beginning. Our differences, while pronounced, weren’t stumbling blocks; rather they were like a solution. They were a comb that slid into the space between the tangles of our individual issues, gently working the gnarls out.

He tempered my impulsiveness. I reminded him that it’s not only okay to laugh at yourself, it’s important to not take oneself so seriously. He modeled hard work and sticktoitiveness, and I convinced him to eat eggs with a runny yolk.

From the very beginning, our love was all-consuming. When I moved five hours away just two months after we began dating, we would each make the drive once a week, he on the weekends, and me on Tuesdays and Wednesdays, my days off. Between the two of us, that was 20 hours of driving every week. For a whole year. But we had to do it. An entire week apart was unthinkable, and thankfully, he had his mom’s gas card, so our commitment was only of time, and not of cash. (Mad props to my in-laws for bankrolling our love. Hugs!)

"Our differences, while pronounced, weren’t stumbling blocks; rather they were like a solution. They were a comb that slid into the space between the tangles of our individual issues, gently working the gnarls out."

So on our wedding day, I wasn’t concerned about my future. I was anxious about the 300 guests who would be witnessing our promises to God and each other, because I have never been comfortable being in the spotlight, and 600 eyes on me would make me twitchy, for sure.

But in the end, it didn’t make me squirm. I didn’t feel like people were staring at me, I felt like people were loving us. My father’s protective arm under mine, the smile on the face of my betrothed, and the promise of a great party followed by a great life gave me a jumbo-sized case of the warm and fuzzies.

I was high on life, and it didn’t even matter that I hated my hair, or that my face was a little shiny from the heat, or that the groomsmen were pissed that I forgot the radio that I had promised them to listen to our college football game during pictures. I think I won the boys over a bit by accidentally showing them my thonged ass, when in an attempt to help me sit on a stool, my mother lifted my dress wayyy too high. They all swore they saw nothing, but later a few of the boozier ones admitted that was, in fact, a complete lie.

It was a wonderful day. The best day of my life. Some people say having kids was the best day of their lives, and for me that’s not even a contest. Birthing babies is lots of work, and really pretty sucky. It’s good at the end, but still strange and awkward and spent in a hospital. My wedding day was a day long celebration that ended with a husband, champagne, and cake, and was a totally blissful ride.

Today is our ten year anniversary, and I’m a little misty. I am thankful for this partner who knows me so well. Who understands that I don’t need a husband who holds doors open for me, unless I have an armful of stuff, and expects the same consideration from me. A husband who bought me five blankets for snuggling on the couch to replace the pastel comforter of my childhood that was loved to death, because he knew I was searching for the right size, weight, and snuggliness that eluded me for months after the demise of my blankie. He finally found “the one”, and it has been a constant fixture on my couch for nine years now.

Together we co-created two adorable and clever children, we’ve had years of fun, and we’ve weathered disappointments and hardships. Our home is modest, and our lifestyle simple, and we are content. Sometimes I wish we could change some things in our life, and sometimes I can’t stand that man that I love, but I have never once regretted my choice to intertwine my life with his. More often than anything, I am surprised and overwhelmed by the blessings in our life, and I am eternally grateful our paths crossed when they did 13 years ago, and that I didn’t have the fast poops in my wedding dress. What more could a girl want?

[Tweet “A decade of marriage started with a celebration and the bride flashing the groomsmen. Oops!”]



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