AisleDash

Surprisingly, not all human beings bearing an XX chromosome come out of the womb ready to plan a sit-down dinner for approximately 100 guests, with nicely coordinating shades of favorite hues, and (oh ya) a groom.

At the age of nine, I told my childhood pal that I just KNEW I wanted to get married. She stared at me blankly: "How can you know that?" I stared blankly right back: "You mean you DON'T??" An exchange that I can only speculate initiated the years of philosophical differences that were to follow. Ironically, I remain no longer betrothed. And she? Married, and I can only assume blissfully. Having stumbled upon her photos on Facebook, I discovered she and her boyfriend had eloped to New York City, and a happier looking couple I've yet to see. He clad a dapper dark suit and dark shirt sans "requisite" tie. She wearing a stunning girlie white-ish dress with curling black vines on the skirt, a black sash, a black cardigan and flats. Seated on his lap on a sunny fall day, on a bench in Central Park, the sweetness in their kiss made my heart hurt.

Another one of my very best friends has been married for a very long time. She confessed to me a few years back that the wedding itself was a painful endeavor akin to having a root canal. She reluctantly wore the white dress and managed to smile her way through the photos. But it does beg the question: What does a bride do when not innately ... bride-y?

Get married anyway. Run away and buck tradition. Or put on the white dress, smile and look forward to the years ahead with your best friend. The white dress is transitory. The happiness that follows is not.