White dresses and a level up in the game of life.

My friend has moved her wedding forward by a year from September 2013 to September 2012. I’m sorry to say I was first in there with the unoriginal question ‘Are you Pregnant?’ I couldn’t help it. I am vastly ecstatic because they got engaged and then the wedding seemed so far away, now it is the highlight at the end of my summer, let alone theirs. The bride is a wonderful friend from university and her fiancée is fab, I spend a large amount of time in their spare room when I’m visiting friends in trade for a bottle of wine. I have spent many happy hours with them and I can’t wait to see them marry, I plan to cry a sea of tears and drink way too much in their honour. They are a couple that is so established in my world that if they separated I’m sure the universe would rip at the seams.


White dresses

The dresses

I’m not going to be a bridesmaid; however I spent the weekend wedding dress shopping with the bride to be and her mother. Would you believe it, the first dress, in the first shop was just perfect and nothing else after could measure up. This didn’t stop her trying on lots of dresses, I watched her try on white gown after white gown and started to feel, well, a little odd. I have never really wanted to get married, I was always in the train of thought that if you loved someone and wanted to spend your life with them just do it, why do you need a piece of paper to prove that you do or will. It’s not like in today’s society it means a lot, every marriage seems doomed to fail before it has started. Despite my cynicism and my generation’s apparent determination to devalue marriage, I always feel overwhelmingly happy when someone tells me they are going to tie the knot, I think it’s because in that moment that person seems incandescently happy. In the bridal shop, staring at mountains of white, cream, ivory, satin and lace I started to wonder if I wanted a big white dress? I can’t imagine thinking I could spend the rest of my life with anyone, let alone wanting or even choosing someone to do that with. Just because I can’t imagine it doesn’t mean I wouldn’t like it, it doesn’t mean that it wouldn’t make me content, it just means I have to do some serious revaluation of what makes me happy.

Everyone around me is in long term relationships, engagements and marriage. Me? Well I joined a Facebook group called ‘My friends are getting married, I’m getting drunk’, yes this is probably childish but it feels like I’m playing a game and I just went up a level in difficultly. It feels like I’m getting old and this doesn’t sit well with me, do I have to start checking for glinting gold bands on the left hand every time someone I am remotely attracted to starts talking to me? I am going to start getting sympathy looks every time I say I’m single, watching a small flash of fear in their eye as they panic I’m might burst into tears over my singleton status or even worse they might catch singletonitis? Or heartbreakingly worse am I going to be deserted, left behind by my friends? Is there room in married life for the single girl chasing a Neverland dream? If I fight to keep my friends will they accept me, chasing happiness that’s not like theirs or will we just drift apart on different tides??


My First Big Fat Wedding

At the weekend I attended a wedding. At the weekend I went to my first wedding. At the weekend I went to a wedding on my own. At the weekend I went to a wedding as an ‘adult’.

As you have probably guessed I went to a wedding at the weekend. It was a simple affair that was very far beyond my comfort zone. I had never been to a wedding, not even as a child, (I had either not been invited or figured it would be incredible dull) so I was nervous; I had no idea what to expect and only a vague notion of what was going to happen. I decided this was a big gap in my knowledge as an adult. That along with what the hell do you wear to a wedding, no, no wait a semi-formal wedding? I had to be an adult as well, this meant making small talk, smiling in all the right places, saying the right things, you know being charismatic and witty and wonderful rather than turning up, running round and eating too much and falling asleep under some coats. (Remind me why is being an adult is a good thing?)

I also went stag; not that I was given a choice as I didn’t have a “plus one” not being in a “committed long term relationship” however, it was awkward as I knew no one else there. I’d rather however go single to these things, having to entertain myself is much easier than hanging out with friends and a date where you have to micro manage and maintain time with everyone (I’d rather be a lemon in the corner than frustrated with people I like not playing nice ). It was odd, I am quite close to the bride and get along well with the groom, however I have limited and sporadic contract with her family and she lives too far away for me to know her friends. This meant shock, horror I was going to have to mingle, while I can think of worse things to do, it’s undoubtedly a lot of hard work.

I did know one person there, like the bride she was an old friend from the school we all attended, she was married annnnnnnd had two ridiculously beautiful and charming children in tow. (I didn’t avoid her wedding I was in America at the time) It was a lovely catch-up but I felt very aware that despite my two friends being a year older than me I was the maid, and they were the bride and the matron with children. Honestly I felt closer to the children making themselves sick than to my friends who seemed to be racing away from me. I was, however, mildly reassured by the vicar who during his sermon said that it wasn’t that you grew up and then got married but more that when you got married you grew up. Apparently if I want to feel more like an adult I’m going to have to get a ring on my finger.  Hmmmmmm.