|Image originally from here|
I've been holding something in that I'm ready to put out into the universe. Consider this post my "Why Chris is the most amazing person in the world" post.
If you have talked to me at all since the day we got engaged, you may have noticed that I have experienced quite a bit of anxiety around wedding planning. More than one person has responded to me by saying, "you need to be more excited." Which I haven't responded to well. Because let's be real here - I get to choose my own emotions and my response. And being told what to feel doesn't feel very good. It just makes me more upset. You may have thought you were being helpful. But you probably made me cry. And here's why...
On Memorial Day, just a few days past the "one year until our wedding" mark, I finally told Chris what has been on my mind since the day that we got engaged. We were headed home from a BBQ at my mom's house when I burst into tears. I was the one driving, which made it a slightly scary moment. We had been working through guest lists and discussing the format of our ceremony and reception that weekend, and kept getting into stupid arguments about it. Mainly because I was holding back what I really wanted to say for some time. It all came out in one giant slurry sob..."I don't care who is at our wedding. Because the one person I want to be there isn't going to be there. And it's not fair."
I miss my dad. A lot. For the most part, I have gotten past most of those "it's not fair" moments. I try not to make the phrase part of my regular vocabulary. But there are definitely the times that I feel it. Birthdays are kinda shitty. Holidays too. Days of celebration that are supposed to be extra happy - they're just a little more sad. When I attend the weddings of friends, as much as I fight it, I often cry when I watch them dance with their dads. This is usually why I am in the bathroom when this part of the day happens so that others don't see me doing the ugly cry. Trust me, it doesn't look like the "Aww, how beautiful" cry that everyone else is doing. It's certainly not something to be captured in photos. It's not that I am angry at them. Maybe slightly jealous. But just sad. Definitely sad.
I know that there are parts of our day that are going to be different from all of those other weddings. I have known for the past seven years that I wouldn't have a father-daughter dance. That I would likely choose to walk myself down the aisle versus trying to decide who the suitable replacement would be. Because, in my mind, there isn't anyone else. I thought I would be over this by now. That if I spent enough time mentally preparing, that all of the emotion would go away. But it turns out, this feels worse than a birthday or Christmas.
When we started the actual planning, I had this onset of dread. I wasn't looking forward to planning this big party at all. And I think I tried to push it away by rationalizing that if we didn't make a big deal of our wedding, if we planned something small and simple and intimate, the gaping hole would somehow be less obvious. People wouldn't notice that someone was missing.
But he will be missing. And I'm doing my best to deal with that. Every day.
I hope this doesn't come across as though I don't care about other family and friends. Or that I am not excited to share in our special day with them. Because I know that on our wedding day, we will feel truly showered in love by all around us. And we are planning a pretty fun party. At least, I think so.
But if you have wondered why I am anxious about what our ceremony might look like, or I don't care to talk at all about the little details, it is because there is this tiny cloud that I am trying to push out of the way so that I can have a little more sunshine about May 25th.
As much as he can understand this, Chris gets it. And naming the problem has helped a lot. I have actually enjoyed some of our wedding planning tasks this summer.
Still don't give a sh*t about favors. Ain't nobody got time for that.