One thing about getting married is this: logical, down to earth women (stop laughing David) somehow turn into this obsessive and crazed women who suddenly MUST DESIGN AND PLAN THE WEDDING OF HER DREAMS.
And it’s funny despite insisting in my head pre-thoughts of weddings crossing my mind, that even I find myself getting into the Bridezilla swing of things.
Honestly, wedding planning is a little depressing. I wonder why on earth am I putting so much effort and money for an event that only happens once in a life time to a man I’ve known for nearly seven years now (if I had married Eizwan two days I met him there might have beenan impressive reason to celebrate…Like, hey! “I found the man I want to spend the rest of my life with, IN TWO DAYS! Let’s throw a party!”). To tell my family this is the one? Why do a big wedding? Why not over a barbeque and then over lamb and mint sauce, inform the relatives: “See that man over there? Yeah, the one struggling with the chicken wings? Yes. That one. I love him. I’m going to have babies with him one day. Would you pass the beef please?”
Weddings make no sense. It makes no sense to have the dress, and in the case of Malay weddings, the three million and one events that go along with the wedding (in my case, I’ve cut it down to three million…and a half). It’s costly, it’s ridiculous and to a certain extent, I go from someone with feet relatively on the ground into this bridezilla who wants to find the PERFECT TAILOR, PERFECT VENUE, PERFECT DRESS, PERFECT ETC. To impress who!? Me? To get the best value for money? But why? The best value for money would be spent traveling in Europe, not over one dinner.
Somewhere along the line, I seem to lose sight of the reason why I’m doing everything. Why am I obsessing about my weight? Why do I allow myself to be abused by wedding planners who tell me my ideas are weird (“The pelamin is far too small, how are you going to show your status?”), my wedding photographers who think their astronomical charges are reasonable for photos I don’t like, by bridal shops who tell me I’m a little chunky and I need to lose more weight, and for that, why don’t I take their ‘slimming package’ where they can proceed to abuse me further by pinching the fat around my belly and making those little lizard noises of disapproval.
I really, really don’t get it.
Right now, I have to balance what my family wants because, you know, in Asia, marriage is an alliance between families, and is not just about two individuals who are in love. I have to withstand the remarks that go something like “Oh, you’re so Western” when I really am not. I’m not Western. I’m me. Be grateful it’s Western as opposed to my original theme of Doctor Who. I could be dressing the groom up as a Cyberman and we’d walk down the aisle serenaded by the Doctor Who theme.
Why on earth do women subject themselves to so much abuse for their weddings?
Psst…wanna hear my dream wedding?
It would be as Disney World. I know it’s tacky, but I want that. For that short moment, I can pretend that there is really happily ever after, that I have found my Prince Charming. And that ‘home’ is a palace and a castle, there’s a giant mouse that does not cause disease and that I don’t have to go back to the ‘real’ world of bills and chores. I’d be with super closest and dearest, where we’d have a nice dinner and then, roller coasters. And then I’ll go explore different parts of the US because I really don’t need all these things like a wedding cake, hantaran or that silly dome in the centre of wedding tables that serve the same tired dishes, wedding after wedding.
Here is the thing. To want something like that is to be selfish. To do the traditional way (and to be honest, my wedding is not even that traditional, my parents are bending over backwards enough to accomodate my strange wishes…so much so my dad worries that his relatives would think that he dropped his daughter on the head when she was growing up) is being selfless.
But somewhere along the lines, with all these planning, I can’t remember why we’re doing all this in the first place.