Is it Worth it For Me?

It is a common thing for young girls to imagine their dream wedding for when they are older. Usually these fantasies include a big white ballgown and luscious floral decor, a three-tiered cake with bride and groom figurines on top, nonstop dancing, you get the idea. At least, I've been told that these are common daydreams for young girls. My sister had been planning her wedding since grade school, making mental edits with each passing year until she was old enough to create a Pinterest account. Countless pins and mood boards were developed on her own accord to help formulate every last detail for her special day. Her wedding day was in August of 2019–beautiful weather, quick ceremony, and a lovely reception with a view like no other. I'm sure she wouldn't change anything about it. I'm sure it lived up to all the years of imagining, planning, and finalizing.

Now, as an almost 25 year old woman, I begin my journey of wedding planning. I was proposed to on October 21, 2020 (what a year, am I right?) by my then-boyfriend, now fiancé Matt. I was caught off guard, I cried happy tears and FaceTimed my mom, dad, sister, and his parents all in the span of about 30 minutes. I bet it all sounds nice, but to actually allow myself the ability to say "yes" and to WANT to say "yes" took years of mental strain, hard lessons, and personal growth. I was never the young girl who imagined what her wedding day would be like. I never took the time to picture myself in a ballgown, mermaid, A-line, anything. I never really wanted to.

My parents had gotten divorced around the time I was six years old. I have practically zero fully formed memories of them being together–only vague flashes from one or two vacations we had taken. I grew up living with my mom and visiting my dad every other weekend for the entirety of my childhood and teen years. I was so used to having my parents live in separate households that I almost felt out of place when I would visit a friend whose parents were still married. I had to remind myself time and time again that it was normal for parents to be married. I also had to tell myself that having divorced parents was okay, too, despite a few unfortunate opinions from people who, safe to say, were not my friends for long.

As I grew a bit older and started having relationships with boys, I wasn't exactly sure how to be a girlfriend. I don't believe I knew what love was–I look back today and think I was "just rolling with it." It wasn't until college that I had experienced my first legitimate long term relationship. I dated this guy from the beginning of my sophomore year until almost the end of senior year. We had planned to move in together, get jobs near each other, the whole nine yards. We'd visit each other on the weekends, making sure to get any and all work done during the week so that the weekends were for fun and some minor errands. Senior year rolled around and things began to feel more tangible than ever. Graduation was approaching, job hunting was becoming a reality, and my mind was spinning. It was all so overwhelming. All I had known up to that point was how to be a student (a good one, at that), how to keep things to myself (because I didn't want to bring my own personal problems into my mom or dad's household), and talk about goals for the future with my boyfriend. I had reached a point in life where those "talked-about goals" with my boyfriend could actually become my reality, and for some people that's exciting. It scared me to the core.

What if I'm not happy living with him? What if I hate my job? What if I'm too young to settle down like this? I'm only 22 after all. But don't people say to not put an age on love? Do I even still love him? My parents didn't work out, so it probably won't work for me either.

The further into senior year, the worse the thoughts had become. It had gotten so bad that I had started researching different types of depression because I was so inside myself that I got kind of lost. Easter Sunday of 2018 was the last time I had seen my boyfriend in person. The end of our relationship was rocky and none of it was working out, so we had decided to break up. Even though the racing thoughts I had indicated that ending the relationship was for the best, I was devastated. The completion of my thesis was supposed to be relieving, but it wasn't. My graduation day was supposed to feel good, but it didn't. Something turned off inside me and I truly believed I didn't deserve happiness, nor someone to spend the rest of my life with. I felt the latter wasn't worth it. I can imagine any reader over the age of 35 would be saying, "honey, you're in your twenties. You have all the time in the world for this, that, etc etc.," but that's just what my mind was telling me at that moment.

After graduating college and moving back home with my mom, I had stopped looking for new things. New friends, a new boyfriend, new hobbies...I kept looking for a job because, well, money is money. To take my mind off things, I made sure to see my friends, go out for drinks and the like. One Tuesday evening in the summer, my girls and I go to this bar that they had been frequenting while I was at school. It just so happens that that very evening was where I'd be meeting my current fiancé.

I stopped looking, and he ended up right in front of me. It took several months of trying (on my end) to fully accept that forming a new relationship with Matt was okay, and that just because things didn't work out between my parents didn't mean that would become my destiny by default. He came from a household where his parents have been married now for over 38 years. I had to re-learn what it felt like to be included in such a tight-knit family. After over two years of dating, he popped the question and, as mentioned before, I said yes.

Learning and accepting that you are your parents' child, but not a carbon copy of them was one of the hardest lessons I had to face. However, if I didn't allow myself to face that, I don't think I'd be where I am currently. I love where I am, who I'm with, who my true friends are, and where I come from. Hopefully you do, too.