Posted by Sherry , Monday, April 19, 2010 Monday, April 19, 2010
This past weekend H and I made our way to sunny Ohio for a wedding. I have about a bazillion family members and it seems like just about every 4-6 months one of them is dragging us into one of their major life events: marriage, births, graduations, divorce.
I usually go to these celebrations because of the cake. Seriously. Wedding and birthday cake are my favorite desserts. Moist, crumbly vanilla/chocolate/strawberry/spice/carrot cake with sweet, sugary, melt in your mouth, heart-attack inducing buttercream frosting (remember my cream filled egg incident a month back)?
I know you are thinking, “Oh but Sherry, there are so MANY different types of wedding and birthday cakes out there: fondant, whipped cream, ice cream cake, cookie-cakes.” And my response is, THEY ARE IMPOSTERS. If a birthday or wedding cake does not contain crisco-laden buttercream, I do declare, what is the point?
So anyway, I go to weddings for cake.
But there is also another moment that I adore during weddings. The part where the bride walks in and everyone stands.
Many girls spend countless hours of their time dreaming about the details of their weddings. What will my love and I dance to? What will my dress look like? Who will catch my bouquet? Would you need a receipt to return a toaster to Macy's?
And as a young woman that minutia crossed my mind. But the part that I always got stuck on, the part where my heart would swell and made me want to become a bride as fast as possible is the part where the doors open, the music begins and everyone rises for my entrance.
How often are us regular folks able to capture the attention of every person in a room? How many times will we have everyone in a room STAND to recognize and honor our presence? (well, for my step-sister, TWICE in SIX YEARS, I suppose).
I'm lucky enough to have had that moment. It was all I dreamed it could be. And even now, at every wedding, I get teary eyed during that moment and not just because its a wedding and you're happy for the love birds (or devastated because little Pookie already has a bun in the oven and is about to hop into a Chevy Nova and move to Vegas so her baby daddy can pursue his life long dream of becoming a tattoo artist) but because I think “this may be the one and only moment in this woman's life where she will feel like a star."
See, after the wedding, life eventually returns to normal and your car breaks down or your new husband loses his job or you get chicken pox on your honeymoon. And your boss at work never praises you for the account you closed, and your mom never notices anything but the weight you've packed on, and your kids care more about Elmo than cuddling with you.
When you have that moment where everyone stands just because you walked in the door, you have a moment to go back to.
Its a small thing, but for me, it was the best.
So, anyway – I figured that in my weight loss journey, I need something to go back to. I need something to help me remember that I once looked and felt the way I want to for the rest of my life. I need to hold onto that moment in time where I stood up for myself and was the best I could be. I found these photos:
They were taken about 4 days after my wedding when we were on our honeymoon in Aruba. I felt like a model. Seriously. I felt like a star. I hardly sweat. I was at what my initial goal weight is now.
I could physically do anything and not get tired. We swam, we para-sailed, we snorkeled, we got sunburned, we walked, we smiled – a lot. Never once on that trip did I criticize myself for the blubber falling over the top of my tankini bottoms. Never once did I avoid a photograph. Never once did I look at myself in the mirror and see only my faults.
I want to get back there. I want to feel like this again. Yes, I look gorgeous (go ahead, you can say it!) but seeing these photos remind me of how I FELT at that time.
I want to stand up for myself again.
p.s. those of you that have no intention of ever getting married (or are not allowed to get married because of our stupid government)? I humbly suggest you find some opportunity akin to a wedding -- a ceremony of some kind -- to honor yourself. And if you invite me, I promise to be the first one on my feet when you enter the room.