The Anti-Wedding Wedding

In the days since J popped the question, I've been bombarded with questions from coworkers and friends and acquaintances I've known for a whopping three minutes, including whether I've set a date and where the wedding will be. Today at our weekly senior management meeting, the chief counsel of one of the departmental bureaus turned to me and asked, "So, when's the date?" And I said, "The date for what?" He and two other bureau chief counsels simultaneously burst out laughing and looked at me like I had sprouted horns. Right. The wedding date. Well, let's slow down for a sec, everyone, shall we? I mean, J and I only got engaged a week ago.

Moreover, I am sooooo not a wedding person. Let me clarify: I am most definitely a marriage person. J and I are so happy and excited to be marrying each other--the past year has been amazing, and we knew very early on that we'd found our perfect match. We can't wait to formalize our relationship, celebrate our commitment to each other, and share our joy (and it really is unbridled, exuberant joy) with everyone.

BUT.

I'm just not a wedding person. I have no interest in trying on dresses or picking out color schemes and table linens or having everyone stare at me while I walk down the aisle. Checking out venues sounds terribly boring, and frankly, I'd rather not waste money on floral arrangements or centerpieces or wedding favors. I also hate silly traditions like bouquet tossing and (frequently overchoreographed) first dances. You know what I'd really like to do? Wear flip-flops and stand in the middle of a pasture or in the mountains, just J and me and a minister. J and I would exchange vows, and then maybe we'd go eat a steak dinner somewhere afterward. The End. My second choice option would be for J and me to travel somewhere prohibitively far away--the Seychelles come to mind--so that no one would want to come. It'd be a low-key, intimate affair, again with just the two of us and a minister, me barefoot or in flip-flops, and then we could go swimming or scuba diving.

Unfortunately, neither scenario is going to happen--for one thing, my mother would flip out. She has very specific ideas as to how things "should" be done. We've never actually talked about weddings, but I can guess pretty easily: big white dress, traditional ceremony in a well-decorated church, lots of flowers, a formal dinner (preferably a Chinese wedding banquet), fancy wedding cake, no alcohol. And this is one of the reasons why I've never been a big fan of weddings: so often, they're more for the parents and relatives than they are for the bride and groom. It's not really my day if I have to consider everyone else's feelings with every decision that I make.

To further complicate matters, not only does my mother conflate marriage with big, fancy weddings, but her aesthetics are the polar opposite of mine. If I'm forced to have a wedding, I want it to look something like this--

Simple. Rustic. Casual. In a barn. I also like Mason jars a lot.

I'd be perfectly happy to wear the same white sundress I wore on the day we got engaged--I bought it last year from Delia*s for 25 bucks. (Yes, I sometimes still buy clothing from a website aimed at 13 year old girls. Don't judge. Delia*s stuff fits me well, is less expensive, and when the site says something comes in size 0, it's actually true to size.) We could find a local bluegrass band. Maybe string up some lights. And I'd totally go for a dinner of fried chicken, mac 'n cheese, and lemonade.

Momma Wu would have a conniption. "When did you become so country?" she'd ask. "Is this because J and his family live on a farm?" "Ranch. They live on a ranch, Mom. And no. I've always liked barns and bluegrass and rural America." "Humph, well I don't remember that. Are you being cheap? Is J cheap? Everyone will think that you just can't afford to have a nicer wedding." Yeah, she's a special one, my mother. All of my friends think she's hilarious and can't wait to meet the Tiger Mom. Anyway, I digress.

Many people have said to me, "Well, why don't you politely tell your mother that while you value her opinion and respect her feelings, you'd prefer to do things differently? Or just tell her to screw herself. You're an adult, after all." To which I respond, "You have no idea how Chinese mothers operate, do you?" It's going to be an incessant, passive aggressive sulk-fest. For the next TWENTY years. Or maybe not so passive aggressive--she might just harangue me aggressively and openly. I could avoid her calls I suppose, but then my sister would guilt trip me about being a bad daughter. And it's not like I want to start a fight or anything.

But my dislike of weddings is engendered only in part by my mother--it's more about my dislike of having to expend time and effort and money on something so ephemeral and fleeting. It's resentment of the expectation that I should want to plan a wedding, despite how wasteful and unnecessary it feels to me. It's disgust with the commercialization of a religious and legal institution. And it's an aversion to being the center of attention. J and I love each other very much, and we both place great significance on marriage and being married. We already know we belong to each other--that in itself should be enough to solemnize our commitment...at least, in my perfect world.