128: Life lessons I learned as an old(er) bride.
A list. Of forty-three things I want to remember
Hello friends,
Thank you for your well wishes. On May 31, 2024, I married my sweetheart, Pete. The days before and after were marked by unseasonably cold temps, wetness, and power outage-inducing windstorms, but blessedly, our day was beautiful.
Before I forget, I noted the life lessons I learned from being a second-time, old(er) bride in 2024.
Act as if the weather Gods have granted your wish. Instead of praying, thank them effusively for the glory of open skies, fluffy clouds, and rays of light kissing your cheeks and shoulders on your big day.
Make an inclement weather plan you genuinely like. This is not to distrust the weather Gods. It’s to help you be sincere in your thank yous in advance. (I am so, so glad I found a mostly indoor rooftop reception venue with a stunning Elliott Bay and Downtown Seattle view. Of course, because I didn’t beg them to, the weather Gods over-delivered for us.)
Bring your inner five-year-old along when shopping for “the dress.” Listen to what delights them and why. Making decisions on the “twirl factor” and sequins, beads, or lace might hurt your adult head but not theirs.
Welcome the inner child’s outrageousness; lean on their conviction of fabulousness instead of the culture’s idea of rightness. You can only ever almost get it right with the culture, anyway.
Before you purchase, however, consult an adult who understands garment construction. Difficult alterations are a pain in the ass and usually end up being costly and disappointing for everyone involved. (Or, like me, limit your choices to designs with straight hems and adjustable straps from the get-go.)
Five-year-olds do not understand alterations. Soothe them if the dress they fell in love with does not get chosen.
Know that the latest bridal gown trends make even twenty-eight-year-olds feel insecure about their bodies. You will feel uncomfortable, excluded, or ashamed if you have any sags, bags, lumps, or bumps—utterly normal things for aging beings.
Consider this: according to a recent New York Times article, the demand for bridal plastic surgery has tripled in the last three years.
This criminal degree of manufactured insecurity creates profit. You’re not the problem; they are—but you’ll still have a manufactured insecurity problem to solve.
At one point, I broke up with scrolling-scrolling-scrolling the internet. I shifted my attention away from looking the part (and for what? Pictures? Likes on Instagram, which I’m not even on?) to feeling the part on a sacred day.
What makes me feel like a secure, beaming, beautiful woman? What helps me be in my skin unself-consciously? After all, what makes lasting impressions isn’t just looks; it’s how people feel in our presence, too.
And what a gift a mature, secure human just standing there in their glory is! How aspirational is that?
Some of the greatest wedding planning fun happens when you tap into the non-sight senses: touch, smell, taste, and sound.
My DIY bouquet smelled so good, y’all! Every time I got a whiff of the eucalyptus, roses, and peonies I was clutching, I felt heavenly, abundant, and calm.
Serve food you love, paying careful attention to your guests' dietary needs but not expecting everyone to love your food as much as you do.
You cannot please everyone. Be brave enough to deeply please a small minority, including yourself (and, hopefully, your new spouse).
This goes beyond food and drink; it also goes for the music you play. You cannot make everyone happy.
If anyone asks if your wedding has a theme, tell them it’s “I like it.” We created a 12-foot-long charcuterie board (aka grazing table) instead of serving dinner because Reina thinks charcuterie boards are our thing. For sodas, we served Jarritos, including flavors like Mexican Cola that taste vaguely like grape juice and tart Tamarind. For the toast, we served Japanese sake in mismatched antique cups (and let the guests take the tiny vessels home as a favor.) So be it if someone thinks this does not constitute a real theme. Geeking out about things one likes is always in fashion.
If the beat moves you, dance by yourself at your own reception.
You can’t hold the thought, “I like it!” and simultaneously think fearful things about your imperfect body.
Your photographer will ask you to look into your beloved’s eyes many, many times. This is a true test of intimacy; it’s vulnerable to see and be seen this way on an emotionally charged day.
I love pockets in dresses. Why didn’t I think of looking for them in a wedding dress? Probably because I shut my five-year-old down prematurely (see #5).
If you’ve experienced divorce or another significant loss, the tools and tricks you used to support yourself on your hardest days are highly useful for the hours leading up to your wedding, too. Think pep talks from besties, worry rocks, Lamaze breathing, lucky charms, rehearsing speaking from the heart to project confidence. This is not inauspicious; this is being smart about your well-being.
People make their own meaning; they’ll take something away from your words, choices, or actions on your wedding day and beyond that you never expected or intended. Let this be okay.
You will be one of those people, too. You will cherish random occurrences and synchronicities above all else.
Like the fireworks over the baseball stadium in the final moments of the reception. And the kids' heartfelt joy over how it feels to see me happy. Or the fact that in every wedding video you’ve watched so far, you belly laugh. Occasionally, you even snort. It’s not remotely elegant or ladylike, but the laughter is a testament to the relationship you’ve already cultivated with your spouse, and it promises many good things. As we say in Japan, 笑う門には福来る warau kado niwa fuku kitaru .
Get more help than you think you need.
Be friends with helpful people. They will be by your side in more ways than you can imagine. Invest in these friendships long before and long after the ceremony.
Forgive people who’ve wronged you. You will have reckonings in the days leading up to the nuptials. Maybe even get visitations in your nighttime dreams. You’re not forgiving for the other person; you're forgiving to set yourself free before undertaking this new journey. You deserve a purified slate.
Make amends, too. Say you’re sorry where appropriate.
If you accidentally refer to your new spouse by your ex’s name when talking to someone at the reception, don’t freeze or overthink it; say oops and move along. Nice and easy.
Eat a big meal the day before, preferably somewhere with chill vibes. I consumed an entire 2,500-calorie katsu lunch with creamy mac salad at a Hawaiian restaurant. This seemed over the top until 36 hours later, when I was starving but had too much adrenaline pumping to eat more than a handful of crackers.
In all the busyness, don’t forget the marriage! Looking back, how was the wedding symbolic of an average day in your married life? Consider how you’ll answer that question in a month, a year, a decade. Be intentional.
Stop playing bride and or groom and hug your beloved. Hug them, even if other people are watching.
Be brave enough not to guilt-invite anyone into your life, let alone your special day. Even if they saved your ass once upon a time or financed or birthed you.
Be audacious enough to invite online friends you’ve never technically met. I wish I’d done this with my incomparable global community of storytellers who have my back and heart.
More customization is not necessarily better. Resist the temptation to personalize every little detail sold to you as an option. It will cost you your sanity.
More customization is not necessarily better, even for vows. We used the standard-issue one (with no religious overtones since we got married in court). Now, whenever I hear the generic version, for better or for worse, in sickness and health, for richer or poorer, I’ll be reminded that honoring and respecting Pete, no matter what, is quite literally the promise I made to him.
Language lesson: a wedding suite doesn’t necessarily mean “conjugal hotel room” anymore. In the U.S., it also refers to the various pieces of stationery a couple sends as a package to invite someone to their wedding. If I spared you confused looks or a bit of embarrassment in front of someone in the know, you’re welcome.
Go to a lot of therapy beforehand, and you’ll be pleasantly surprised by how others’ behavior that used to make you resentful feels sweet or funny instead. Case in point: my parents, who participated in our four-person private wedding ceremony from Tokyo via FaceTime, were disruptively noisy at the beginning (and had to be temporarily muted.) But they stayed quiet as mice when the ceremony was over—think, “You may seal your vows with a kiss!” and nobody clapping or cheering. Afterward, I grabbed my phone and, at Mom and Dad’s request, flipped the camera to show them the clear view of Mount Rainier. They erupted into such a loud “WHOAAAAAA!” that the judge, our official, totally cracked up. And then, instead of being butt hurt, I cracked up, too.
Cultivate a gratitude practice (see #1). It's nice to start in advance, but starting on the day of is fine. It’s never too late to say thank you.
Like sakura, cherry blossoms in the spring, this all-important beautiful day ends and fades away. Make it count, but don’t hold it too tightly.
The next season is already upon you. Don’t miss it.
Permission slip of the week:
A favorite quote from the Mary Oliver poem, Wild Geese, that Pete and I read.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
P.S. Pete chose this song for our playlist, though I’m unsure if it came on. No matter—we listened to it after the dust settled and shed a few tears together.
P.P.S. Speaking of Pete, why are there so few pictures of him? I’m still waiting on our official photos. Our guests were so immersed in the experience that more conversations happened than picture-taking, a feat in this day and age!
Thank you for sharing this wonderful occasion with us. You look beautifully happily Rumi ❤️ Your wisdom is always a gift.
This post is so precious. As one of your global storyteller friends, I feel like you just gave us all a chance to be there with you. This post makes me want to re-marry my love...just so we can follow some of your 43 lessons, but mostly so we can share a poem. Simply beautiful. I am so happy for. you.