- Butterflies Are Free
- 8 years ago
- Wedding: April 2011
I am not trying to cause any waves. I do believe the ladies on this board are intelligent, well-meaning women who are excited for their weddings and look forward to their new lives with their beloveds.
Unfortunately, today’s social pressures have a way of stifling said intellect and indviduality by means of consumerism and McMarketing. Gone are the days of simple pleasures and romantic, intimate unions shared with friends and family. In America today, your wedding is not considered a ‘success’ unless you serve ‘the right’animal products, wear ‘the right’ earth-harming gown, and invite ‘the right’ group of mooching, virtual strangers masqueraded as well-wishers.
More importantly, there appears to be a Registry Fixation on this board, and among new brides in general, in which once clever and free-thinking females begin to agonize over selfishly-priced dishes, unnecessary eating utensils, inorganic pillows, outrageous appliances, and the like. Then there’s the bride who is so focused on the sheer number of gifts she receives, that her entire self-esteem plummets as a result.
Don’t believe me? Look at these posts:
Why is a $109 pillow necessary to make you happy? Lay your head on your lover’s chest or arm and let him comfort you through the night.
A cold, metallic coffee maker that is built to break will not keep you secure when the wedding is over and life goes bad.
The number of women obssesed with egomaniacal sterling silver, haughty platinum-rimmed china, and pretentious crystal goblets disturbs me. Why do you NEED this things ladies? Why is one ‘Lace’ plate more important to have than another that looks just like it? Why do you worry about ‘formal’ stainless at all? Who cares when people begin to buy you gifts? Wanting these items is greedy and socially irresponsible.
FREE YOURSELVES OF MATERIAL POSESSIONS AND LIVE LIFE TO THE FULLEST! You can be like me, and you will thank me for it. I am registred for absolutely nothing at all, and in doing so, I am giving myself so much more. I am sewing my own dress, as well as my friends’. We will all be in shades of white, because we are all beautiful and special and we all deserve attention.
My wedding to my Love will be in meadow at sunset on Earth Day, a Friday evening. We will not be having a Saturday wedding, because we do not expect people to put aside an entire day for us. We will be spending Earth Day planting trees, teaching children about fresh clean water, and hearing presentations about solar energy breakthroughs.
At dusk, our loved ones will gather in our special meadow, with flower garlands in their hair, and our wedding will be brief but beautiful. Everyone will be barefoot, soles and souls planted firmly to the sweet, dense ground, as butterflies flit to the sounds of our vows.
Instead of presenting over-dressed guests with a banquet of tortured animal carcasses cooked in expensive liquors, we will have a picnic feast replete with Mother Nature’s generous bounty:
Wild dandelion wine will sate our thirsty tongues as we dine upon sensual salads of hearty avocados, pungent garden herbs, glistening beets, and biting sesame oil. Enchanted field greens, woodsy mushrooms, and lucsious olives will make our tummies sing. Sexy, organic chutneys made by a dear friend with fiery red hair, called Magda, will accompany exotic jasmine rice cooked in vegetable broth with eager summer squash, and it will taste more elegant than any overpaid chef can comprehend, because it is natural and full of love. Stars will dance in our eyes as we feast upon sweet apples and golden raisons, and treat ourselves to lucscious maple cakes covered in flirtatious chopped walnuts and intoxicatingly perfumed violets.
We will dance, we will sing, and we will rejoice in our love for one another, for this planet, and for our many, intangible gifts. Silly brides will be unable to do any of this, for they will be dwelling over negative energies, suppressing tears over their aching feet (why must you torture your beautiful arches with such superfluous shoes?), and holding their stomachs in pain as their bodies cry out against the toxic animal “foods” they stuffed down their pretty throats.
You can choose. You can choose to go with society, or you can shout out: “NO. I REFUSE. I AM MY OWN CREATURE, I AM MY OWN PLANET. I will write a love song to my behind, whether it be flat or round, because it is mine, and supermodels cannot tell me how to look. I will laugh as you purchase chemical-laden clothes and I will hug my bamboo-created lingerie to my sun-kissed flesh when I climb into my bed at night. I make my own rules, I create my own path, and no man will serve as my guide. I am a Woman, I am here, and I am now.”