Truth be told, walking away from the Shoestring Bride was really hard.
This was how I came to the decision (which is really how I come to most of my decisions actually):
– Talked briefly to a friend about no longer blogging about weddings. (usually a friend who thinks in the exact same way I do. So they usually agree with me. Weird, right, that people usually agree with me?)
– Think about my decision for a while. Cory calls this stewing. I call it pondering. My dad calls this fretting.
– Lay awake at night listening to Cory’s heavy breathing willing myself to fall asleep
– I decided then and there at sometime around 4 o’clock at night, kicked my blankets off, and typed my decision to end the blog and suddenly the world seems to fit again. The jagged edges have not quite faded away just yet but it does feel better.
I never went into the details of my decision because of the overwhelming guilt that my readers would know I what I am: a hypocrite of the highest order (I think they might have already guess that but nevertheless, I wanted to stay coccooned in my little world).
The moment the wedding was over and the giddiness of the event was past, it was like the blinds from my eyes were drawn. The stewing, fretting, the stressing seemed so… pathetic and I didn’t like thinking I was pathetic. In fact, the only thing about the wedding I did not regret was my dress, my planner, my girls and my man. Everything else seems so inconsequential now.
Don’t get me wrong, my flowers were gorgeous. The invitations looked almost exactly how I wanted it to look. The decorations were chic and simple. In end, I realized that it didn’t matter. It all really did not matter. However, I also knew that if I did not stress, if I did not worry, if I did not stew I probably would be kicking myself right now.
So, why am I not blogging about weddings anymore? Because I am so over it. You do not need to be told this. I don’t have to spell it out for you. You are a smart girl. You will have regrets about your weddings. Pictures you wish you had, the food was cold, or your mother-in-law’s breasts fell out when she was getting down on the dance floor. However, I can also guarantee that when it is all over, you will have the same ephiphany I did. It all doesn’t matter.
I may just be burned out but for right now, it pays to remember what matters to you in the end and believe me, it ain’t the invitations.
Picture from Steven Steinhardt Wedding Photography