Unlike many other girls, I never dreamed of seeing myself in a white dress. When girls in kindergarten wrapped themselves in curtains and imagined they were Disney princesses, I was falling off fences and pretending to be Superman.
That does not mean I never fantasized about having a family. I certainly dreamed of the day I would meet the love of my life, and even as a child I thought about the names I would give my children. But a ceremony in which I would exchange vows inside a cloud of tulle and lace? That never crossed my mind. Then the moment came. When the man who would become my husband and I decided to marry, something in me went wrong. Suddenly, I insisted on doing everything by the book.
The dress and me
(Photo: Courtesy)
He was far less enthusiastic. “Why does it have to be a big wedding at an events venue?” he asked. “Maybe we could do something different? Something unique? Original?”
But I refused to listen. I wanted the all-inclusive package: catering with antipasti, a DJ who would blow the roof off, hundreds of guests and, of course, a white dress made by a sought-after bridal designer who would charge a fortune for it, only for me to return it the next day.
With the benefit of hindsight, I can say wholeheartedly that he was right and I was wrong. That has nothing to do with what happened between us later. I am not fooling myself. Even if we had married in an intimate Buddhist ceremony on a cliff in Sinai, we probably would not have lasted. In the end, it was not the wedding party that separated us, but far more fundamental differences.
Still, today I understand that had I let go of the pressure to be “like everyone else,” I could have been a much better partner at the time. I might have been someone capable of truly listening to the person beside me, instead of being so preoccupied with satisfying society’s expectations.
The dress did eventually teach me something important about myself. It reminded me how easy it is to lose your inner voice when you are trying to conform to the collective. Perhaps that is why, years later, when I reached the next major crossroads in my life, I acted differently.
When I decided to divorce, the pressure around me was intense. People told me, “Everyone has problems” and “You have to compromise.”
But I refused to keep playing by the herd’s rules. I decided to listen to my heart, even if it meant becoming the odd bird in the flock. Despite the many difficulties, I continue to be grateful for that choice.
There is only one thing that frustrates me about the whole story: Why the hell does the ability to stop caring what other people think, to free ourselves from convention and from “what is done,” arrive only as we get older? Why did some of us have to waste our 20s inside elaborate dresses and ceremonies that did not suit us, only to discover in our 40s that the pattern was too tight around the waist?
And yet, when I look today at that earlier version of myself, smiling from the photograph, I do not feel regret. The smile was completely genuine, and the happiness of that moment was not fake. But I also know that the wedding dress was only one of the many “dresses” I wore throughout my life simply because it mattered to me that I fit them, rather than asking whether they fit me.
Fortunately, since I found the courage to step out of line, the clothes have become far more comfortable.