I can’t believe that I am getting married. When Matt and I first started dating, I told him that I didn’t want to be married until I was 38 (Why I thought 38 was such a magic number is beyond me) but that was my number. To me, 38 was the age that I would have it all figured out – I’d have my dream job, I’d shake all my sillies out (aka late nights out with friends), I would maybe start to think about wanting kids (hey, my Mom had my youngest sister at 44!), my bank account would be plush as hell, and that’s when I would “settle down”. It’s funny how we make plans and God laughs. Fast forward to today, I’m still figuring things out, I still enjoy late nights with friends (although these are few and far between now – OH and the recovery time has doubled), but if we’re being honest, I’d like… have a kid right now.
10 years ago (2009), if you would have told me that I would be getting married to Matt, own a home, have a French bulldog (child), and be living in Kansas City working remotely and running a passion project blog – I wouldn’t have believed it. Not because it’s something so far fetched, but because the previous version of myself could not have imagined such a perfectly tailored destiny. I know I sound like a enlightened, self-righteous douche saying that. But it’s true.
It’s funny the things we think we want when we are younger, or the goals of previous versions of ourselves, and then life unfolds in completely perfect and unexpected ways – just the way it was meant to. I’m not always in this healthy, grateful head space (feeling #bLeSsEd) so when I am, I relish in it.
Now, as I sit here and write this post at age 29 I realize that there will never be a perfect age, a perfect moment, a perfect amount in your bank account to just DO life. To live in every moment, seize every opportunity, and take risks. You can strategize your 5 to 10-year plan, set standards, make goals, and promises to yourself until you’re blue in the face, but I think that life and fate have greater roles than we give it credit for. Let life unfold and simply see where it takes you.
And that’s my little kernel for ya today. Back to the wedding thing…
I think of all the weddings and bachelorettes, wedding showers, baby showers, stock the bars I’ve been to, and it feels surreal that it is Matt and I’s turn. Truly so weird. I never really envisioned what it would be like for myself or how it would feel, and most days I pinch myself because it’s like WOAH, we’re really doing it!! This isn’t a thing that just other people do, this is a thing that we’re going to do!! It’s so exciting!!
I feel bad for all the weddings I attended in my early 20’s. I had absolutely no sense of the time and effort that goes into a wedding and I truly didn’t understand how big of a deal they were. Pretty sure I gave a $20 gift card to one of my dear sorority sisters as a wedding gift and I gifted my best friend 4 salad plates and a veggie peeler on her wedding. OMG I WANT TO DIE THINKING ABOUT THAT. I know it’s not the amount or the gift that really matters, but when you think about how big of a deal a wedding is, I look back and wish I would have known to invest in something more meaningful! Oh, and spent time writing a heartfelt card, instead of including it as more of an afterthought (WHY AM I LIKE THIS?!!?)
I’m dedicating next week’s post to breaking down all of my former bad wedding guest habits which will be aptly titled, “Confessions of a Bad Wedding Guest” or maybe I should call it, “I f*&ked this up, so you don’t have to!” (maybe I’ll save the latter for my memoir). I hope you tune in next week on the gravest errors I made as a former wedding guest asshole and all the things you can learn so you don’t have to be one, too – or you can if assholery is your thing.