My best friend married the love of her life last weekend, and it was the most beautiful ceremony– the bride and groom were glowing with joy, the other bridesmaids and I spent the whole weekend laughing, and the vows were the best I’ve ever heard. I openly weeped into a Kleenex hidden in my bouquet.
I was stressed leading up to the wedding, worried about how I would look. As the woman who did my dress alterations had pointed out: “That dress is the same color as you are! You need to get a tan!” (Thanks a lot.) I was worried about my weight, the shape of my body, how pale I was, and how lonely.
The week before, I had gone to my psychiatrist– this is a new guy, since my previous one retired in December. Because my meds have been nailed down for over 10 years now, I mostly just need a signature to keep my prescriptions filled. The hardest work was done years ago. But I think that bothers the new psychiatrist, who tried to push me into sharing more with him about my life and how I was doing and feeling. When I started to tear up about the upcoming wedding, he looked horrified, like OH GOSH NOW WHAT. 🙂
This man is very handsome, very fit, and very married. So when I tried to share my fears over how I’d look in the wedding and how weddings sometimes exacerbate the loneliness of a girl who very much wishes to be in love, he really could not connect. “Don’t worry about that!” he said. “You’re beautiful!” Then, realizing that was perhaps awkward and maybe inappropriate of him to say, he followed it up with, “Everyone in the world is beautiful!”
(My friends and co-workers have been dying laughing over that! Now, if someone offers a compliment, we follow it up quickly: “You’re so smart! I mean … everyone in the world is smart … in their own way!” Ha!)
Anyway, it’s just quite the tightrope to walk to be 36 and single, wanting to be 36 and in love, to simultaneously have tremendous confidence and none, to let my friend’s romance both delight me and remind me of what I hope to have someday.