For a few days recently I was transfixed by the wedding of someone I don’t know. I watched updates of the whole weekend on Instagram in real time, waiting for glimpses of each new outfit and event. When the wedding day arrived I checked my stories constantly, eager for a look at the dress. I even pictured it as I tossed and turned between sleep (and yes, I’m trying to spend less time online). I’ve since gotten over it, but I haven’t stopped thinking about why I cared so much, what about it was so captivating.
I’m pretty sure it’s not about the wedding. I have beautiful memories of our wedding seven years ago - a heartfelt celebration and an excellent party that felt true to us - but once it was over, I developed an aversion to wedding stuff, could barely stand to read about others’ celebrations and choices. It felt like a cruel temptation to reconsider choices and invite jealousy, to ask myself what I’d change. There are a few very minor things, and it pains me to admit that, as if I’ve somehow failed a test of timelessness and knowing myself. To reassure myself, I remember this: in the moment, that day was perfect. I felt beautiful, relaxed and happy. The things I cared about went according to plan. We were surrounded by the people we love, and we felt full of hope.
And yet. While watching this recent wedding unfold, I fixated on a few details that differed from my own choices, coming back to them again and again - what if I’d worn more natural make-up, tried a dress with that specific bodice shape, taken more photos in natural light?
But where’s the lesson in this? It’s not, what would I change if I were to do it again today, but something more like, what have I learned, and how does that show up every day? And maybe more importantly, What should I do today to be proud of myself seven years from now? And it’s not really about the pictures, but more about how I will feel when I inevitably look back at this stage of my life - will I be proud, not just of how I appeared but of how I showed up? Is that even the right goal?
It’s easy to look at the superficial as if these are clues to a greater sense of awareness and alignment, as if figuring out how to get my hair to look good every day proves both my taste and my ability to execute, but I’m also thinking about the deeper, felt stuff. Am I focused on the right things? Am I working on things that matter? What happened to the potential that felt so palpable a decade ago - is that still there, or has it somehow fizzled out and run its course?
I think this is perhaps what’s so compelling about ‘bride vibes’ - the allure of feeling like you are at once both the most primed, polished version of yourself, and that you have so much open road ahead of you. Maybe I’m looking at this with nostalgia because it feels like such a different phase from the one I’m in. I am, as Glennon Doyle once put it, ‘dripping with children,’ swimming in logistics, stretched and shriveled, never alone but sometimes quite lonely, more accomplished than I give myself credit for and constantly wondering if I’m doing enough. I feel so far from the version of myself of a few years ago.
But also - I have everything she hoped for, and to look at her with discomfort, to scrutinize her hairstyle or lipstick shade feels unfair, if not cruel. How do I keep the bride vibes alive, and remember that with any luck, there’s still plenty of road ahead? And that this phase I’m in now, this is the point?
Asking for a friend.
Photo by Loreto Caceres
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