Weddingbee Blog

::sheepishly waving hello:: Hi, hive.

Simply put, it wasn’t supposed to be like this. Sure, the weeks and days leading up to our wedding were crazy, but I was…coping. (If you’re guessing there’s more to that deceptively-simple statement, you’re oh-so very right!) All of what *needed* to get done—and most of what we’d planned to accomplish—was checked off our trusty giant Post-It to-do list.

The big day came.

We smiled. We kissed. We cried. We ate. We danced. We celebrated.* And then we honeymooned.**

Now, a bit of background:

During our 20-month engagement, I had begrudgingly worked in a position I found neither challenging nor inspiring. The team into which I was hired was solid, but an alarming number of these talented people had left our drama-filled, bureaucratic and, simply put, unhealthy (traceable to several long-standing, my-way-or-the-highway types) work environment.

The idea of searching for a new employer *while* planning the wedding was overwhelming. And with Mr. Bruschetta finishing his physical therapy doctorate, I was, at the time, content to hold my “meh” job which, I rationalized, at least permitted me ample Weddingbee-reading time (and provided the essential paycheck, too!). Ever the planner, I set my sights on November 2009 to launch into my job hunt.

So imagine my surprise upon learning, a mere two days after returning from our blissful (albeit jam-packed) “Giro d’Italia,” that my supervisor—who passionately loved his job (though, like others in our department, struggled with the interpersonal, um…challenges prevalent in the department)===was putting in his two weeks’ notice after accepting a position elsewhere.

My world came crashing down. I was assigned a new direct report—a member of the aforementioned deleterious sub-division. The job I already moderately disliked became torturous. Despite having recently married my best friend, I’d never felt more alone. This was, quite simply put, the closest I’ve ever come to depression. By the time 5:00 rolled around each day, I was either fuming at my demoralizing situation, or so emotionally fragile I’d spend the entire evening curled up in bed sobbing, unable to even verbalize the struggles that had led me to this dark place.

Trust me though, hive, when I say the ’bee never left my thoughts. (Special thanks to the hive members who, through private message or by commenting on one of my last posts, sent “Where are you, Bru? Please come back!” messages. At the time, though, these sweet pleas saddened me more, broadening the chasm that separated me from Weddingbee.) I hated myself for attaining “fair-weather bee” status, but couldn’t rationalize continuing to blog. Not when the joy we experienced on our wedding day was so harshly juxtaposed to the unhappiness that had forced its way into my life. Not while the necessity of finding and securing the position that, I believed, would fix everything was my top priority.

My excuses, however, can’t explain why, after starting my new position in late December, I continued to stay away. They don’t make it easier to justify my continued absence, even after the metaphorical clouds had parted.

The only semi-logical reasoning I can offer is this: The unexpected reality that so unpleasantly greeted me in September 2009 robbed us of the newlywed bliss that should have marked the Bruschettas’ first few married months. With no way to get back that lost time—one-quarter of our newlywed year—I focused on the future.

We boxed up our wedding keepsakes, my mister patiently waiting for his verbose blogger bride to reawaken. We embraced our first Christmas, New Year’s and Valentine’s as husband and wife. And a few months into 2010, we started planning for the next big thing.

House hunting supplanted job searching. Home blogs filled the void left by their wedding and photography counterparts. A steady HGTV diet replaced our Food Network addiction. And we celebrated our “paper” anniversary one month early, as stacks of signed documents paved the pathway to our “First and Forever” home.

I could see it looming in the distance, though. After we’d cleaned and vacated our apartment. As we emptied each box and reassembled our furniture. That nagging feeling; the realization I had once adored blogging. Was I ready for my Weddingbee hiatus to end? Hadn’t enough time passed? Or would revisiting the weeks leading up to our wedding, and those following it, reopen wounds that had only recently healed?

This is an amazing community. I consider myself *so* fortunate to have been able to chronicle my planning; I’m honored to be in the company of such amazingly talented readers and contributors. It feels great to buzz back into the hive. And, if you’ll have me, I’d love nothing more than to finish sharing our story.

What do you say, hive?

* These not-so-terribly-descriptive sentences do not, in any way, constitute the official Bruschetta recaps.

** Nor does this one. Come on, hive! 12 days in Italy? This wordy one’s got more to share than she even knows how to stuff into a blog post!