Wedding is over.
First off…I have to say thank you. Honestly, I logged into this group mostly in an effort to try and pick out some good wedding clothes for the butt-load of nuptials I am attending this summer. Little did I know that I would get such support in what turned out to be a bit of a life crisis moment (and one that had to happen so far away from friends and family and I had limited personal space for processing).
Thank you bees! Everyone of you. You gave me strength, and some smiles (as I snuck peeks on my iPhone while mindfully watching the gift/guestbook table at this wedding).
I did not sleep at all on rehersal night….for a variety of reasons. Forgoing the effort to fake being comfortable for ‘someone elses comfort’ (i.e. mom), I grabbed my computer and went into writing survival mode (I am a writer, and it’s my MO to turn inwards and towards the page when life is too insane to deal). I decided somewhere between 3 am and 4 am that I was staying till the end, and going to fly homw with him (as planned). Gutting it out. Ultimately going to try to smile, and make it happen. Do WHATEVER IT TAKES. SO be it.
Mom, on wedding morn, woke up at 7 am and saw me perched in the lobby at work. Noticing her b.s. excuse of “You’ll want to sleep in” was going south right then, she (very reluctanctly) re-offered to take me to the salon. I was prepared for this one though! I had emailed the stepmom (phone calls would’ve been rude at that hour) and promised myself was a cupcake un-loader and cake table decorator (I figured she needed the help…I knew the bridal party was never going to be able to pitch in here).
At 7 am, to be honest, I hadn’t heard back from step-mom (didn’t expect it). But, I considered it confirmation enough that I had emailed her. I rescinded mom’s b.s. offer with politeness and said I had something arranged for the day. Mom wasn’t up for playing games, and demanded some reassurance about how I was feeling (I guess staying up all night, and my quick 5-minute “what-the-hell-is-in-the-basement???” text session with he son wasn’t enough for her to ignore). I’m a lousy liar, so I kept it simple and said I believed there was some “communication issues” going on between me and her son (I kept this to a sentence, because really, I am not mad at her — I get her viewpoint. All I want from her is for her to just GO AND BE with her daughter, and — if possible — be about 100-miles away from her son whose ass is in dangerously in position of getting kicked to the curb).
She didn’t do as I wished….at all.
Mom took this one sentence as a very harsh critique on her highly emotional and caring son (this is pretty much more about her being a mother hen, then him being actually anywhere close to being a soft-skinned creature of emotional weakness. Just trust me, he is NOT that emotionally frail. I speak from deep personal experience on this point).
Anyways, a lot of defensive flag waving ensued from her. She wanted me to know I was being harsh towards her fragile son, and made many statements which I won’t repeat that were low enough blows for me to reconsider plane tickets. Afterall, Bf entrusting me to her was an act of love (her words). His trust of her (her words). A great idea (her words).
I was crying. I’ll be honest – this was a hard thing to be stoic through after a good night like what had passed. It took a lot of me to keep my mouth utterly closed on the topic, take her criticism on me being a bully, and just agree with things that I utterly didn’t agree with. All I knew is she needed to go. She did not need this, and I knew it. Keep my mouth shut, and it ends quicker.
When it came my turn, I told her I loved her and her daughter, couldn’t wait to see how she looked after the salon, and I was not the least bit angry at her son (like I said, I was going to do WHATEVER IT TAKES, people).
I don’t really think she bought the lie, but she left. (Mission accomplished).
As planned I went to the room, got ready, and put on my walking shoes. I walked the ten-minute stretch to the empty reception hall (i.e. reception and ceremony were in two different places) and got to work. When the cupcakes came, I made it happen. I put away boxes. Put up decor. Basically, made the day of all the hired people and few family members who were in charge of that show. It’s one of my few talents I guess — when it comes to putting emotions aside and getting work done — I get it done. I have a talent for it I think.
Bf calls me somewhere between 9 and 10 am to “check in on how I am doing and let me know he had a good night”. I have no clue what his plans are, (and could care the hell less). He, however, is not an idiot (or as mom declares, “a fragile petal of tears”). He quickly gathers I am not in the salon (where he expected), and is duly alarmed by the change in events. He knows something is clearly amiss, and wants to know why. Without sharing details, I request specific details crucial to the decorating tasks at hand and hang up on him immediately after the information comes out.
Yes, I did hang the hell up (okay, passive aggressive, yes I’m not proud and do not condone…but, it’s a wedding people. I do have manners). Anyways, fragile petal of tears gets the point. He knows his ass is in serious jeapordy. He starts looking for a place away from the party people to get in a private word with me before the ceremony.
Sometime around lunch, mom-stalking begins. I feel for those who had to participate in this period, and tried to take it easy on them all. However, if I was going to be here, I wasn’t going to be more uncomfortable then I already was.
Mom-stalking consisted of harrassing random groomsmen (incidentally, none of them were my bf, who was looking for his escape route to me at the time) calling me and asking to bring me to the ceremony. They also called asking to take me to lunch with their girlfriends (wow, right?). They asked if they needed to bring me anything from anywhere. There probably is a fair chance they’d be willing to drive me home (3,000+ miles away) if mom required it.
I politely decline everything…hoping bride is oblivious as hell to this mess. She is not. She directly calls me (shit. damn. hate this.). I assure her I am great as ever, I have a ride (this is not a lie, the hired help are happy as hell with my contributions and are ready to drive me to the ceremony and told the Father of the Bride that), and all is well.
Bf makes direct contact…and now it goes down. I ask if he understands why I am considering leaving immediately after the wedding. He doesn’t and he does. He also immediately apologizes for his lack of communication (one point for that). The rest…I am over-reacting (okay…). He also plans to put me with him in the ‘basement’ tonight.
I agree and then we quickly mutually agree not to do this here, and depart frrom the break-up conversation. I cry a bit in the bathroom just for that bit of emotional release.
Fast forward– cerempony and reception, off without a hitch. Able to get through actually feeling pretty good. I throw a hug or two my way via boyfriend, just because, I do love him. Staying or going was the question…not loving him.
Make it to end of day. Grab stuff out of hotel, and go. We are alone, and it’s on. He hears me out (fragile flower takes it all in). He does thorough apologizing, but insists on some points we can wait on.
End of story for the moment. We fly back now. But bees, a wedding went okey. My tally for wedding destruction is still technically clean.