I'm an impressionable person, a quality that has been a blessing and a curse in my life. A blessing because I can find inspiration almost anywhere, and it's easy for me to find the good in other people. A curse because I had to learn the hard way that one shouldn't have to change to make other people happy. I learned that lesson twice.
The Internet can be a slippery slope of inspiration and constant comparison. I stay for the inspiration and beg myself to leave because of the comparison -- comparing my wardrobe to someone else's, comparing my life with a stranger's, detailing wedding plans of a vision that isn't mine. It can all seem really constricting and heavy and no fun at all.
When I first discovered wedding blogs, I was strangely enamored. I can say, honestly, that I was never the kind of person that dreamt of my wedding day. As a matter of fact, it rarely crossed my mind. I never wanted a big wedding. Or perfectly coordinated bouquets. I never even knew people photographed weddings.
Suddenly, it was all I could think about. I found myself calculating costs and wondering how on Earth people afford this stuff. And I wanted to cry. Then I reminded myself: I never wanted a big wedding. Or perfectly coordinated bouquets. Or anything like that. That is someone else's dream. A brilliant, wonderful, amazing, perfect dream. But it's not mine.
No, my dream looks more like a very small, unfussy celebration of the love I found in the fifth grade with a boy who makes me laugh and washes the dishes way more often than I do. And yes, I want photos. And I want to hold my idea of a perfect bouquet (sunflowers). And I want to wear something old and something new and something borrowed and something blue. And I want my dad to walk me down the aisle while my mom looks on with gentle eyes and a kind smile. And I want my family members to receive us with open arms and love in their hearts. And I want to remember that day as one in which I gained a whole new family.
And it will be perfect. And, more importantly, it will be my idea of perfect. xo, R.