Dear 2020 Brides,
I’m writing this from my attic on a rainy Friday afternoon. I’ve cried on and off for whole days these past weeks and I’ve found (at least I think I’ve found) a lot of clarity on what this year means for us. I am heartbroken if your wedding had to be cancelled or postponed because I know what your date meant to you.
First, I want to preface this by saying that I understand the severity of this virus, I mourn the lives that it took from us and I carry the collective burden of uncertainty with me everyday. I’m also fully aware that a wedding is something that can be pushed back, that it’s the last thought on society’s minds, that “it’s just a party,” that “is it even worth it at this point?” I get it. Fully. The guilt I’ve held inside of me for the past six weeks for even having the privilege to worry about my wedding absolutely kills me. I feel so sorry for the countless people facing bigger, more threatening situations right now and I wish this would all go away. So, for everyone reading this, please take these words as a candid diary entry of the thoughts that have been keeping me up at night; that I am simply putting them all down and sharing them in hopes that another bride feels less alone.
Jumping into the feelings that have been circulating in my head for the past six weeks — vendors calling me and asking “if I’m still on,” if “anything’s changed,” and family members urging me to change our date, I feel the need to share what being a 2020 bride feels like, because it has felt like a dream was just helplessly crushed and taken away from me. September is too close and too far away for any peace of mind. I’ve really been trying to breakdown and understand why I am so absolutely wrecked by the fact that my wedding might have to be postponed.
I’ve always loved weddings. I’ve been a flower girl, junior bridesmaid, and bridesmaid countless times — some of the first and best memories I have. The traditions, the formalities, the first dances, the speeches — I’ve always felt them to be a real celebration of love, the joining of two families, a proper sendoff into adulthood — the responsibility that comes with it. And for as long as I can remember, I have honestly and truly been ready for this day to come. I’ve been ready to walk down the aisle. I’ve been ready to plan a beautiful party. I’ve been ready to painstakingly stress over each and every small detail that mostly would go unnoticed. I’ve been ready to live with the man I love so dearly, who I’ve lived away from for five years now. I’ve been ready to wake up next to him every day. I’ve been ready to create a family. I’ve been ready to start a home — always felt that push and urge to begin my own traditions, to draw up house rules, to raise a family. I’ve always wanted that. I’ve always been so ready to “start,” whatever “starting” really even means. And a wedding, one where family and friends could dance and sing with my husband and I, sending us off into this new chapter of life with pride and hope was something that I have been consistently dreaming about and putting together for so long. I wanted this wedding more than anything.
And without the fluffy words — damn, I just really want our day. I really want to wear my dress. I want my dad to walk me down the aisle. I want to take pictures with my Nonna. I want to dance with my friends. And as I sit here right now, I can’t believe what is happening.
You know, there have been far too many tears for me to be proud of over the past weeks — far too many pushes and pulls with this reality and it has been so incredibly hard for me to let go of what I thought could and would be. These past few weeks go a lot deeper than the planning of a wedding. They have truly been a test of my willingness to let life take it course, and this time has truthfully shook me to my core.
I look back on my “normal” life — one in which I had always thought was relatively free and spontaneous — and realize how chained I was to a schedule, to the days of the week. I loved and really still do love being in control of everything I create for myself. I do well on a routine: I am productive, I am happy, I am extremely skilled at managing time, I am organized. Control works for me.
And now? Really specific findings I’ve dug up about myself during this time where I haven’t been able to grasp absolutely anything? I’m finding myself more vulnerable, asking my mom more questions, truly living off of the energy of my family members who live in this house with me, I am addressing every single solitary emotion I am feeling the second that I am feeling it, I am so much more appreciative of color and of the sun. I am questioning everything. And everyday, I am constantly searching the internet, Instagram, Facebook, for someone who has the same thoughts as me. I am clinging to the strangers who utter one sentence that I agree with. I am bonded to friends through Facetime who desperately try to understand the inner workings of each of my worries. And everyday I wake up, with no work, no timeline, I find myself drinking coffee and finding comfort in my people and in my situation. I strangely feel contentment. I do find joy everyday.
A schedule has tried to find its way back into my life, it has tried to peak its head through my late sleep-ins, the five hours after I’ve woken up and haven’t changed out of my pajamas, the scrolling on my bedroom floor. But it no longer serves its purpose. It no longer provides me with the peace it once gave, the peace I’ve been longing for. I am in love with the fact that my people, certain chapters in a book, a new canvas, a good podcast, Paul Simon, or an entire day spent alone outside on the grass are the only things that are doing that for me right now. They are my only wedding distractions.
Scratching the bachelorette party off of my countdown app, postponing my shower, and this dread of moving our wedding to next year comes with a lot of irrational (or even rational — who the hell knows anymore) fears. I have this fear that we’re going to lose someone who we love and that we won’t be able to have those memories of them, I have this fear that no one will care anymore or that wedding parties will be a thing of the past, I have this fear that we are spending money during a time that is so incredibly uncertain, that we don’t know the economic hardships we are about to face, I have this fear that something even worse will happen next year. Internally fighting myself on if I should still get legally married on September 6th, 2020 or if it won’t be special by the time next year’s celebration comes around. Arguing with Joe and believing that “he doesn’t care enough about our wedding” or our soon-to-be marriage. Absolute chaos. Truly. Back and forth and back and forth and once I feel as though I’ve made a decision, I wake up the next morning with a pit in my stomach, believing it was the wrong one.
Trust me when I say I realize how absolutely insane this all sounds — and even writing and re-reading this really helps put my mind at ease. Problems are a lot bigger in our heads than they are in the real world, when they’re written down on paper. I know that this can be taken miles out of proportion. But why is it so hard for our brains to stop firing about our weddings, our plans, our hopes?
I feel as though we may have been robbed of what this time was supposed to feel like. I feel an envy of all past brides, who didn’t have to worry about “a minimony,” or the sadness found in the plans that were supposed to be. The plans that were supposed to be ours — our memories, our “good times,” our moments we could look back on and cherish. Fighting for these events seems all too unimportant right now, in a time where there is truly life and death on the line and wicked hurricanes on their way to destroy and killer hornets to murder us all. 2020 once felt like a dream and it quickly became a strange nightmare with no end in sight.
But just know this — I will fight for our day. I will fight forever and I know that my 2020 brides will fight. We will not let this time win. Our dreams are real. Our dreams will not disappear. Our weddings will happen, even through all of this. I promise you that.
I know that Joe and I will still have our day. I know that a decision will be made soon, plans changed or not. I know that I will be a bride. I know that our family will be there to see us off and celebrate our love with us. I know that I’ll take those pictures with my Nonna. I know that I’ll get to put on my dress. I know that Joe will get to see me walk down the aisle. I know that Joe’s family and my family will love each other. I know that there’s a reason it happened to us this year — that the 2020 brides are so strong and that this was the way that our love story was always supposed to go.
DEAR 2020 BRIDES, there’s a reason for all of this. Hang in there. You will have your happily ever after.