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Every little girl dreams of her wedding. This is as a result of watching every Disney movie ever made and thinking that someday, we too would have a huge wedding, attended by hordes of people and woodland creatures and that we would wear a ginormous white dress and ride away in a carriage. I was not that little girl. I never spent time daydreaming about my wedding dress or my Prince Charming. I judged those girls. I thought they were silly and stupid and did not understand why they refused to ride bikes with me and play in the mud hole I dug in my backyard.
The first time I ever thought about a wedding, or even anything affiliated with a wedding, was the first time I was sincerely in love and could see myself walking down an aisle to unite the person standing at the other end. I was in college when I finally got it. I understood why girls got excited about the prospect of getting married and thought about things such as white dresses and flowers. After things ended with that relationship I stopped thinking about anything white. That is what happens when you spend your evenings occupied with boring guys who you cannot envision a second date with, let alone till death do us part. I lived my life as though I would remain single until the day I died and you know what? I can honestly say that I was comfortable with that. I was comfortable with the person I had become and living alone and secure in the fact that I had great friends, a fantastic life and that I had it all on my terms. Guys could be my accessory, something have fun with and add a little detail, but nothing that was going to change my life or that I would be married to, pun intended. Life was going to be good. Then I met this guy a few months back and thought, “Hey, I think I could stomach a second date.” A second date turned into a third date, and then a third to a fourth, and before you know it I was involved in a full fledged relationship where we talked about vacations and both shorter and longer future plans. But I still was not thinking marriage. Marriage? Seriously. I have a life where I can walk around my apartment naked, entirely use my huge walk-in closet inefficiently, keep all my products in the bathroom, watch whatever mindless reality show I want to, go to bed whenever I feel tired and eat cereal or ice cream for dinner because I am too lazy to cook or go to the store. Marriage would ruin all that good stuff. As a girlfriend I can guiltlessly spend holidays with my family, travel with friends and put money into my 401k instead of feeling as though I should be contributing to us as a couple. So again I say, “Marriage?” But recently I have started to soften towards the idea of marriage. I do not mean that I have any plans of rushing down the aisle with my current boyfriend, especially since we have only been dating for six months. What I am saying is that for the first time in a long time I have begun to remotely consider the possibility of things in white. I have recently allowed myself to ponder the idea that no matter how inappropriate it may be, I could be wearing a white dress down the aisle, that I could be picking out flower arrangements and bridesmaids gowns. From where I stand, although it seems mildly exciting, it also seems mildly preposterous. Seriously, married? Me? And to spend all that money on one day is ridiculous. Think about all the other things I could get doing with all that money. And that, my friends, is the reason why I continue to say, “Me? Married?” Because I am still inherently selfish.
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