Day 12

The world would have you think that a single woman hates attending weddings. Perpetuated by clichéd shots of sad, lonely girls sitting at big, elegantly dressed, empty reception tables watching a dance floor full of couples, there’s a certain stigma associated with being a one at a plus-one event.

Whatever tickles your fancy

I’ve been fairly involved in five major weddings in the last year. Three of my best ladies, one sister, one sister-cousin. (This number would be six had my sister Alaina not eloped.) My experience with the hoopla surrounding the grand event—the dress hunting, the cupcake decorating, the table ornamentation—prior to the last 12 months was limited. Now? I could probably quit my day job and plan epic receptions on pennies to the dollar because I’m good at it, but that’s not my favorite part of the wedding.

Without question, or even pause to think much about it, my favorite part of each wedding I’ve been to is hearing the groom speak about my his lady that he adores. Be it in a dress rehearsal dinner, a family meet-and-greet toast, a formal sit down, or a welcome to the big reception event, I love the candid and honest words these kind men speak from the heart. Rarely are the sentiments rehearsed or rote--instead heightened emotion and the gravity of the situation strips filter and inhibition. There are tears, smiles and laughs. From the groom. From the bride. From the audience. It doesn’t matter what’s said, because in each of the weddings I’ve had privilege to attend, not one person has doubted the validity and honesty of the groom’s words. The look in his eye and the smile on his face give him away.

As someone who so fiercely loves the ladies the groom-of-the-moment is marrying, I can’t help but be moved. And feel relief that she’s found someone who wants so desperately to spend time (to infiiiiinity and beyond!) with her. Who isn’t playing the power game of “who likes who less.” Who isn’t afraid to commit and hitch his wagon to hers. I feel she’s in safe hands.

And you know what? Time and time and time and time and time again, I leave the wedding feeling hopeful. Not lonely and deppressy and when-is-it-my-turn? whiney. On the contrary, I feel a marked sense of peace and elevation. My heart is full of love for a new family beginning, and I’m inspired to hold out for a man who’ll speak the same way at a reception full of people (half no doubt strangers) about and to me. The dating world is a rickety ship and I don’t write much about my voyages of romance but I will say, I’m learning---these weddings are teaching me--what lasting relationships of substance and value are. You can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make him drink.

And if you knew me at all, and my merry band of also single girlfriends (diminishing though we may be), you’d also know that we never, ever ever ever, sit still when people are dancing.