Emotional Wedding Advice to Best Friend
With five days to go until your big day, I wanted to take a moment to share my love, give you whatever emotional wedding advice I can think of, and tell you what it’s like from this side of the aisle, so to speak.
First, best friend, let’s talk about this “big day” thing.
Your wedding day is all at once a Very Big Day and Just The Beginning. We know this. Despite my, ahem, previous experience, I found that my wedding day was both much more and much less than I expected: I was much, much, MUCH more overwhelmed by the love of my people and much less stressed or panicked or freaked about the stuff. Sure, I had to take a few moments to gather myself, but that’s just me. Our wedding day was wonderful, but looking back from my almost-anniversary, I can say with complete honesty: It was just the beginning.
The next year will be one of the most exhilarating and frustrating of your life, rife with questioning, cursing, and thanking the universe for this choice you made. In a year, you’ll look back and see your wedding day as a fantastic bon voyage, and that’s the way it should be.
You know I love you. You know I’ve found in you a soul-soul mate-soul mate (and yes, I’m using that silly word because it’s appropriate here in a way I never thought it appropriate to describe my relationship with my husband). We’re so different, you and I, yet so deeply connected that it doesn’t matter that we have very little history in common. We don’t need it. I value your feedback over almost anyone else’s, a shocking revelation when you consider I’ve known everyone else whom I trust for most of my life, and you only three years.
But this letter full of emotional wedding advice isn’t supposed to be about me. It’s about you (and I could not love you any more than I do, but this face makes me reconsider the idea—I love this face).
So I’ll say the thing I always say when I have to describe how much you mean to me: Until I met you, I didn’t realize the power and necessity of female friendship. You have a way of making people feel safe and understood; the ability to be honest and upfront yet supportive; a willingness to lay it all out—to anyone on anything—that continues to inspire those of us lucky enough to be your friend. You inspire me just by being yourself. I love you.
And I love you who you are with him. I love the way you fit—even in maddening ways that drive each of you nuts. I love that you balance his freneticness while he gives you focus. I love that you each push each other to be committed, to grow, to be just a little bit more yourselves but in the context of a partnership. He makes you laugh; you make him settled. Through the craziness of your relationship, I have never really doubted that you would end up together, and I’m so glad my intuition played out.
Of course, given how similar your husband and I are, it’s a bit self-serving to tell you you’re perfect together. (But I will!)
My emotional wedding advice for this week: Feel every moment, wonderful or otherwise. When someone says something that makes you want to throw something, think, “This is my life!” When you’re surprised or overwhelmed or so happy you can’t smile any wider, think, “This is my life.” When you take that man’s hand and declare your loyalty and commitment in front of your people, think, “THIS IS MY LIFE.”
It’s strange to be on this side of the whole getting married thing. A year ago I was frantic with stress over all the little things I didn’t do. You calmed me down and helped me get through. Our wedding day was fantastic because my #1 coping mechanism was to send people to you, in fact. I knew without a doubt that you would take care of me. So this time, when it’s your wedding day, remember to lean on your people. Remember that we all want to help because you’ve helped all of us, at some point, some time. Let us take care of you, if only for a day, mkay? (And congrats on creating a shindig that is so you two—it’s awesome!)
Enjoy yourself, laugh, and take every moment for what they create: the beginning of this next part of your life.
My wish for you is this, best friend: May you find—in him and your marriage—the calm you’ve been seeking without the boundaries you’ve feared. May you never take for granted the fantasticness of new beginnings or wonderfulness of old understandings. May you find in each other the reason to be better at being yourselves. And may you love each other—even when you don’t like each other.
With all my love,