Things I’ve Learned Since Saying “Yes”
AKA An Exposé From a Betrothed, Modern Woman Who Just Wants to be Left Alone
Hello again. It’s been a while. As you can see, I’m jumping back on the writing horse, and, no, it’s not because I’ve been too busy planning the wedding or what-have-you, so delete those thoughts from your mind immediately. Sorry. There’s some bitterness going on here, and so I feel compelled to put these thoughts down. Approximately three months ago, I said, “yes,” when a man who shall remain unnamed proposed marriage to me, and we’ve been living our lives happily ever since as an engaged couple. There’s no problem there; he’s respectful of my wishes, he keeps me in check, which I sometimes very much don’t appreciate but it shows me what’s really important to me, and most significantly, he understands that this wedding is something that I’ve been looking forward to for my entire life, not because as a little girl I dreamt of matrimony and releasing white doves and flying rice that may or may not eventually kill said white doves, but because I am a neurotic, particular, creative (YEAH, I SAID IT) person who has never wanted anything more than a reason to put my favoritest things together with my favoritest people and the opportunity to boss people around.
He’s not the problem, but trust me, I have a ton of others.
First of all, there are a thousand people (probably not an exaggeration, I don’t know) who will feel compelled to “aggressively suggest things” for your wedding, most of them with good intentions and from the best people (sometimes not). People will project their hopes and dreams on you because maybe they didn’t get to do something at theirs, or maybe they haven’t had a chance to plan their own wedding yet, or maybe they just want to be…
It’s not so much an actual offense as it is an eye-roll-inducing pain. The worst is when it comes from strangers. By the way, if you wouldn’t make the same suggestion to someone about their birthday party (what to wear, what food to serve, who to invite), then you sure as hell better not do it about their wedding unless, of course, they ask. That means no, bridal shop attendant, I am not interested in wearing six-inch heels at my wedding and have informed you as such, so kindly sit down, shut your mouth, and do your job. Now stuff me in this corset as tightly as physically possible please.
Speaking of stuffing yourself into a corset, the second thing: you will feel simultaneously the most beautiful and the most unattractive you have ever felt in your entire life. Yes, it feels good to be wanted whether that’s a huge deal for you or not. And yes, wedding dresses literally look good on everyone.
…Most of them.
We live in a society that constantly tells women that they must be simultaneously thin and curvy, sexy and cute, smooth but chiseled but still soft, exotic but still girl-next-door. There’s just no way to win. And all of a sudden, the second you become engaged, you’re expected to pull it all together and be the most beautiful you’ve ever felt in your entire life.
I’m not the type of girl who obsesses over appearances, and I rarely ever look at myself in the mirror. Like, once in the morning, and then once when I’m getting ready for bed at night. I can’t tell you how many times years of pent-up bullying and passive-aggressive/straight-up aggressive comments from family members have caught up to me, and I’ve found myself sobbing dramatically in the shadows. We live in a world where women are made to feel ugly, where we can’t win, and theoretically we’re “soft and pretty and smell nice,” but there will always be something about us that’s not ____ enough. If you look like Scarlett, you don’t look enough like Emma. If you look like Margot, then you better try harder to look like Kim. And then there are the women that don’t look like any of those people, because, hey, we’re normal women. Unfortunately, I don’t have much advice for this. I don’t have the words to say to make you feel beautiful, whether you’re single, engaged, or married. But I can tell you that after confronting the idea that maybe I’ve never really felt beautiful in my entire life, I’ve never been more okay with the way that I look. Maybe just being able to identify your monsters gives you power over them. It’s not your fault you feel this way. The problem is not with you.
Thirdly, if you are engaged, chances are someone will take it upon themselves to jokingly (or not jokingly, yikes) call you “bridezilla.” It’s happened to me a several times. Hell, it happened to me before I even met my fiancé. Here’s the thing. Calling someone a bridezilla, regardless of how serious you are, is dismissive and sexist, simply because there is no male equivalent for this term. What does it even mean? You’re particular, you know what you want, you’re not afraid to get it? Excuse me, but if we live in a society where a woman is expected to change her last name, denounce her singlehood, destroy her own body to bear the man’s children, I’d say she’s allowed to be a little “bossy” (yet another sexist term) about one freaking day. As long as she’s not destroying relationships, making people do things they really don’t want to do, committing illegal acts, then I don’t see a problem with it. Because really, if we’re allowed to call women “bridezillas,” shouldn’t we be inventing a term that means, “lazy, useless, counterproductive groom”? But we don’t, because planning a wedding is “the bride’s thing”. And if she’s making a big deal out of it, if she’s wanting to keep things secret so it can be a surprise, if she’s obsessed with every little detail, it’s her problem. Well, the fact of the matter is planning a wedding is not so different than making a movie or, pft, even writing a research paper, and you sure as hell wouldn’t criticize a man for being detail-oriented and obsessive over his thesis.
Lastly, people who know nothing about you and don’t care to find out anything about you will label you as “the engaged girl.”
Personally, I try not to bring it up that much in conversation. In fact, the only time I really talked about it with randos was when it literally just happened and I was, naturally, excited, and yeah, I saw a couple of eye rolls. But not much since then because I don’t know how people feel about it, I don’t know if they don’t care or it’s uncomfortable or whatever. I don’t bring it up much. However, it seems that some random people really like to bring it up in conversation with me, if only for a brief, fleeting moment. Maybe they feel like they’re connecting with me. Maybe they feel like using it as a passive-aggressive jab, as if to say, “You clearly haven’t accomplished much, probably because you’re a wedding-obsessed ditz, and that’s the only thing I can talk to you about.” In fact, a male supervisor who I very much respect (not mine) once said to me, “You’ll be fine. The money will come in after you leave your job. Aren’t you engaged?” And I’m not gonna lie. It stung. It stung because it implied that I relied so heavily on my fiancé financially that the money that I make literally would not make a difference whether or not I actually had a job. It stung because maybe I’m “fine” because I am a woman with a man who actually wants her? And it stung because this man was attributing my “being fine” after I leave my job to the very same reason that caused me to feel so prejudiced against by my own supervisor that I was compelled to leave the job in the first place. None of these men: the supervisor, the other supervisor, the passive-aggressive jabber, and several, several others, knew anything about me. They didn’t know my background, they didn’t care to hear about my goals, they never casually asked, “What’d you do this weekend?” because to them, I was just “the engaged girl.” I was defined by the idea that a man has already claimed me, and therefore, I was no longer a human in my own right. I was defined by my (pending) marital status.
Some people might say marriage is an outdated process, an ancient ritual that ties two people down against our animalistic instincts. I’m of the opinion that it’s okay to be married, and that it doesn’t mean you need a man, but you choose to be with and commit to one. It doesn’t mean you’re domestic. It doesn’t mean you’re a housewife. And it doesn’t mean you’re any less of yourself. If people are giving you crap because they feel like you wearing your engagement ring every day is rubbing it in their faces, that’s their problem, not yours. If people are criticizing you for your arms and how maybe you should pick something with cap sleeves so your jiggle is not quite so obvious, that’s their problem, not yours. If people think that planning a wedding is “a woman’s job” (one that some of us are happy to do. By the way, is there anything else we’re allowed to call “a woman’s job” nowadays? No, so delete your account, misogyny.) and is therefore not as important, the same way that a movie or a book or a song made for women just can’t be as good, that’s their problem, not yours. And if you’re one of the people who are perpetuating these issues, check yourself. As society’s perception of women begins to change, and it is, so must the perception of partnership. A woman’s engagement is not an excuse to be an ass because you are the one with the problem, not her.
Being a woman in general in 2016 isn’t easy. Being an engaged woman doesn’t get any better. I haven’t been there yet, but I assume that being a married woman doesn’t get any easier either. To women: quit tearing each other down because it’s hard enough. Maybe you don’t identify as a feminist because you think that “those women” are militant, aggressive, abrasive, and fighting a lost cause. That’s not true. It literally just means that you, as a woman, should not be denied the same opportunities that a man is simply because you are a woman. And if you don’t believe this, let’s discuss. To men: You know what would help? Literally even acknowledging the fact that you live very different lives than we do. You will never understand the feeling of being a woman. You may never even try. But just knowing that you live a life automatically better poised for success, that the choices that you make will never be scrutinized or dissected, that you probably will never be called names like “bossy” or “untrustworthy” or “cold,” that you will never be told to smile by strangers who pass by you on the street, that you are allowed to strive for any level of accomplishment that you choose without criticism or question about the quality of parent or husband you are, that you could look like Hugh Hefner or Idris Elba or James Corden and every skin tone and ethnicity and age and size in between and society will still find you valuable, that you will never be reduced to a pretty face or a pair of boobs (or lack thereof), that you have privilege in every single, conceivable way. Acknowledge that the need for feminism results from the existence of sexism. Don’t allow yourself to stay ignorant because “you’ve always been a nice guy.” Being a “nice guy” isn’t good enough anymore. To everyone: The harsh truth is if you’re not standing up for women, single, married, and everything in between, women otherwise known as your fellow human beings, if you’re not acknowledging that they are just as intelligent, just as interesting, just as complex, just as capable as you are, if not even more so, then you are part of the problem.
Yes, I’m excited to get married. I’m excited to be engaged and plan a wedding. But if you think that somehow, because of this, I, or any other woman, am suddenly dumb, vapid, distracted, silly, or anything of that nature, you’re incorrect. But you can keep believing that. It’ll just feel that much more satisfying when you’re proven wrong.
