I thought it was a cute story about a mother/daughter bonding moment. A time when mom made it clear I came first…before plans, expenses, embarrassment, or expectations…all of that ran second to my well-being.
BrightSide didn’t seem quite as impressed by my story. Not at first, anyway.
But it’s a moment I’ll never forget.
Weddings. The hardcore breakdown.
“Uh oh, DGGYST has been reading again. Nothing good can come of that. I get new information and then I pass it on to you like some kind of horrible virus…
So when I read an article that the average cost of a wedding climbed to a record high of $35,329 last year, I was a bit stupefied and immediately felt the need to discuss it with you.
Now let me assure you, I think you are a big sexy adult who is entirely capable of spending her money the way she sees fit. There are a bunch of ridiculous articles out there telling you that weddings are a waste and stupid, and that you look fat and shouldn’t go to the beach (maybe my magazine pages got stuck together). I’m not going to do any of that.
I only want you to have a firm understanding of what you are getting for your money.”
Your Wedding, Your Money – Damn, Girl. Get Your Shit Together.
Yo. I am by no means an expert on marriage. I’ve only had the one, after all (though I do think we’re getting along fairly well), so I’m drawing on a rather small statistical sampling here. I suppose that means the following disclaimer is in order.
I am not an experienced counselor, except to my own children in matters of wardrobe and middle school drama. I don’t have all the answers, unless you’re asking how to heat soup or make a really good grilled cheese sandwich. My coping methods may not be appropriate to your lifestyle seeing as I’ve been known to recommend beer and nachos for therapeutic comfort. Sometimes even Double Stuff Oreos™ when the going gets tough, despite the fact that I have no earthly idea what sort of concoction binds together to make that delicious creamy filling.
Now on with the show!
I’ve said it more than once to the kids: wouldn’t life be boring if everything was the same? They roll their eyes because by now they’re convinced it’s just one more teaching moment, but really…you might as well try to convince me the world should be beige.
I like to joke about BrightSide and me having a whole yin/yang thing. When we were younger and something would go wrong I’d be all Argh! How can you say there’s something positive in this! because, y’know, he was always about the bright side. As I’ve gotten older I’ve learned to look for the lessons (fight the urge to say I-told-you-so, BS), but my hubby is still best at reflexively zen responses to bumps in the road.
I love the yin and yang of us. Numbers/words. Cooking/baking. Neat freak/loosey goosey. (Sorry about the blood pressure spike, love.) Movies, books, hobbies, strengths, weaknesses. We excel in different sports and disagree about tattoos, but we fit together perfectly. I’m proud of who I am. I see what an intelligent and compassionate man he is. And we make each other better parents and people every day.
BrightSide and I celebrated our twenty-second anniversary last weekend. Twenty-two years of wedded bliss.
Two decades? Of bliss? Bwahahahaha!
If you’re buying the idea that anyone experiences two decades of blissful existence, regardless of their mate’s utter delightfulness, well then I’ve got an oceanside condo in Kentucky to sell you.
To mark this momentous occasion, though, I figured I’d toss some little nuggets of wisdom out there. Just to see if any of them stick.
In honor of our 22nd, I’m revisiting last year’s anniversary post.
BrightSide, you’re my rock. I will forever be grateful to have you as a partner on this journey.
“Forever Family: do the math
It’s a special day for us. BrightSide and I have been married 21 years today. Twenty-One Years. Yup. That’s a long time. Not as long as our parents have been married, as T-man matter of factly pointed out, but still…”
A beautifully written insight into interracial marriage in America.
“The fact that I am in an interracial relationship isn’t something that I think about a lot. It helps that I am as white-washed as Dan is yellow-washed…But the truth is that Dan will always be white, even when his Mandarin is better than his English. And I will always be Asian, even though my English has always been better than my Mandarin. Since we’ve gotten married, I haven’t really thought that much about being in an interracial marriage, but I have begun to realize what it means to be married to a white guy. When I say white guy, I don’t mean any Caucasian male. I mean white, upper-middle class, American, possibly Jewish guy who was born to a mom who baked and a dad who raked the yard and who had 1.5 siblings.”
When You’re Married to a White Guy | Rebecca Cao