My Wedding Dress Was Green...but the fit is Sweatshirt Comfy

I had the pleasure of going into downtown SLC this past week - something I should do more often, but don't take the time. I love downtown! It is a beautiful place, new buildings going up, huge flower gardens and people watching is so much fun.

I was waiting to meet a friend of mine for dinner, and while I was waiting I took up an observation post just east of the Joseph Smith Memorial Building and south of the big fountain by the Church Office Building. I had a perfect view of the "temple pedestal" you know, where all the cute little brides stand with their dashing new husband and can have the temple in the back ground, proving to everyone that they "did it right" and everything is going to be "perfect."

Uh huh....go with that.....

Many of you know I've been married three times, yes, that's right, THREE (3).

My Wedding Dress Was White.....

My first husband and I married when I was 19. I "did it right, " I had the return missionary, the temple wedding, the white dress (my moms actually), the obscenely huge reception and I had the pedestal picture, I was sure it was all going to be perfect. It wasn't. I will never say that good things didn't come from that marriage - I have my two kids - they're awesome! I learned a great many things. It was not a one sided failing, we both blew it, I freely admit to my part in it not working out.

I watched, on Wednesday night, a number of brides in their white dresses doing the pedestal picture and wondered how many would really, really make the effort to make their marriage work. I wondered how many would end up tossing that white wedding dress in anger, frustration and disappointment and walking away from the marriage.

My Wedding Dress Was Winter White.....

My second marriage was one born of desperation. I was pretty much left with nothing after my first divorce, and I dont mean "nothing" in a physical sense, I mean nothing in a 'me' sense. I felt pretty worthless. This was not entirely due to the divorce, there were a number of other things causing my self-loathing, but the divorce was a big blow. So, I married a man who was less that what I deserved. The mental abuse served to beat me down further, but I really tried to make a go of it. Finally, enough was enough....4 years of being beaten down was it - no more....done.

As I watched the procession of brides at the pedestal, followed by groups of mutual girls with their leaders and even a quincenanera party...smile...laugh...pose...laugh....I thought about how many of them would find themselves compromising their standards just to be married. I wondered who would end up with a black eye every few weeks, or be told they couldn't leave the house looking like that, or opting for a lifestyle they were not comfortable with just so they wouldn't be 'alone' or left behind. I shook my head a little, hoping they would make decisions that would make them happy and fulfilled....but I know few of them will truly find that path without much risk and heartache.

My Wedding Dress Was Green.....

Almost a year ago I met a man. No, really! A real, honest to goodness, hard working, honest, kind, genuine, handsome, happy, down-to-earth, man. By the time we met I had brought myself to the point of no-compromise, there would be no giving up, on my part, of anything I wanted in a husband - none, ZIP! 

Guess what....I didn't have to. 

I've never been a big believer in "the one", you know...you're made JUST for each other and all of that blah-blah stuff, and I'm not into the sappy romance crap. But guess who found me?? A man who is perfect for me. We just fit. Nerd for nerd, geek for geek, reader for reader, learner for learner, foible for foible. Almost from the time we first met I was comfortable with him. Being with him was like wearing my favorite sweatshirt, the one I have totally broken in, that is soft and warm and fits juuuuuuuuuust right.

I think that the event is so focused upon (especially here in happy happy Utah, insert eye roll here), that the process of getting to the event, and the need to see past the event are overlooked. Not easy things to do, I know.

I watched all of the girls wandering past me that night, the ones that stood on the pedestal, and I hoped, very, very hard, that they would be able to see past the desire for a "white wedding dress" marriage and settle for nothing less than a "favorite sweatshirt" marriage.