The Story of Our Wedding Day

 I don't like weddings. Generally speaking, they are overwrought with silly traditions, they cost way too much money, and they make single people feel terrible. However, weddings are the gateway to marriage—and I needed to marry my love. Therefore, we had to have a wedding.

What I Wanted

My idea of a dream wedding is a trip to the local courthouse followed by a nice dinner. Of course, a beautiful dress should also be involved—but not a white dress. I bought a gorgeous blush gown for my wedding, complete with a flowy skirt and a sparkly belt that screamed "princess." That's all I wanted. Dress. Ceremony. Food. Some nice photos. That's all.

What I Got

I couldn't bring my gown to Haiti. It would have taken too much room in my luggage, and it wasn't worth the sacrifice. Plus, it would have been super-duper hot. Therefore, I am sad to say that I bought a knee-length ivory dress. Don't get me wrong. It's a very pretty dress, and my husband likes it more than he liked the blush one. But it wasn't what I wanted.

I couldn't have a quiet civil ceremony. Apparently, the justice of the peace would have taken a billion years to register our marriage, and we need it to be properly registered for my husband's visa purposes. A civil ceremony might have also adversely affected our reputation within certain social circles, which is ridiculous for multiple reasons, but now isn't the time to get on my soap box. Hence, we asked a minister of our religion to perform the ceremony. 

I didn't want anyone there other than the necessary parties. I was thinking we would have a dozen people maximum. Instead, we had probably three or four times that number. Very few spoke English, so I felt like a fish out of water.

I had hoped to feel beautiful. I did not. My husband found a local hair stylist to do my hair. Unfortunately, she wasn't familiar with how to style my hair type. I have long, fine hair, and she is accustomed to dealing with shorter, courser, much curlier hair. She used the wrong products, and my hair ended up a greasy mess. I spent the last hour before leaving for the ceremony trying to make it look somewhat decent. My husband's sister finally stepped in to help me, and we figured something out. My hair, combined with the fact that I was sweating profusely throughout the ceremony, made me feel less than beautiful.

The minister who performed the ceremony did a wonderful job. His talk was translated into English, so I could enjoy the scriptural  information he presented. After the ceremony, my new husband and I stayed for a simple meal and a bit of dancing before we took off for home.

We climbed into our secondhand car, which had a leaky gas tank and made me feel nauseated. We headed home, and just as we turned onto our street... the car died. Not because of the leaky gas tank, but because it overheated. I ended up standing on an uneven road in high-heeled shoes that were murdering me while my husband and a mechanic did what they could to get the car to limp to our driveway.

Why It Doesn't Matter that I Didn't Get My Dream Wedding

Marriage is important. Weddings are not. Besides, despite the hiccups on our wedding day, I did enjoy myself. I may not have been able to speak much with our guests, but I could feel their love and support. Many people worked hard to decorate our venue, provide a nice meal, and make sure the day ran smoothly. I'm deeply grateful to them. I'm overwhelmed by how hard my husband worked to make our day special. Most of all, it was great because I got married to the best golden boy on the planet.