Weddings are hard for me.
My own wedding went by in a rush, but I remember being sad a lot — in the lead up to the wedding and also on my wedding day. I hid my feelings so no one would know.
My husband had a lot of friends and family at the wedding. Most of the church was filled with people from his guest list.
I had two relatives: my mom and her cousin. Thankfully, some good friends of mine showed up, but most of them had a role in the wedding (bridesmaids, readers, etc.).
Not having a father in my life has always been hard. On my wedding day, it was the hardest. My childhood father figure didn’t come, and neither did my biological father (I sent him an invitation but got no response).
I had no father to walk me down the aisle. A stranger had to do it. I’m thankful for that man (he’s now a friend), but I didn’t know him at the time. So what should have been a really sweet moment, the sweetest in my life, ended up being a bit awkward and sad.
I’ve never told anyone that. I’ve always just tried to be thankful for what I had, but thankfulness doesn’t mean the brokenness and hurt went away.
Five years later, I feel that pain in greater measure than I did that day. What does that mean? How do I move past this?
I never got to experience the father-daughter dance, and nobody, not a single soul, knew I was holding back tears during that part of the reception. “Do you have a song prepared?” the coordinator had asked me.
“Huh? Oh, nah.” I waved it off, like I hadn’t been dreading the question. Like it didn’t bother me. Inside, I was utterly dejected.
Things I’m thankful for: the friends who made my wedding special, my husband who was patient through all the tears and heartache (before and since), and my church family.
-Written on a day when I was crying my eyes out because of rejection (Fall 2020)