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The Unromantic But Sentimental Reason I Treat Everyday Like My Wedding Day
There’s been a change of plans.
I assumed I’d be halfway to the altar by now. Guess what? I’m not even close. Perhaps it’s because I didn’t manifest my husband. Or pray for one.
As bummed as I should be, quarantine allowed me to toy with the idea of perpetual singleness.
It’s a mindset I thought I’d never have. One my ultra-conservative friends find depressing, but my feminist pals? They’re shelling hi-fives all around.
Oh, dear.
Pining for human connection during self-isolation isn’t uncommon. In fact, it’s understandable. Yet here I am, relishing the quiet that quarantine brings.
A few years ago, I was happily preparing to share every square inch of space with my ex. Now I squirm at the thought.
Perhaps it’s selfish.
Perhaps. But it’s simultaneously…liberating.
I interrogate my mirror, “Who are you and, what have you done with my Cinderalla bridal fantasies?”
Of course, she doesn’t respond, because the answer resides with my periwinkle nail polish.
I know what I’d look like on my wedding day.
