“It
was weird, though,” I say, turning to look briefly at my boyfriend’s face and
check my blind spot before turning off the main road into our little potholed
neighborhood. “I’m standing there, surrounded by all these beautiful dresses,
and half of me is like ‘ooh, yeah, I am so coming here when we get engaged,’
and super excited about the selection, and the other half…the other half is
basically like ‘are you really going to do this again? Are you really going to
try on dresses and put down deposits and announce to the world that you're
happy and in love – and trust that the world isn't going to laugh in your face
and bitch-slap you in return?’”
I
pause for a breath as I turn onto our block, dodging the ancient, rickety
trailer that haunts the curb at the corner. He’s quiet, so I try to smooth over
the rough stuff I’ve just let fly: “Don’t worry; I’m working on all this. I’ll
figure it out.” I’m not at all sure I’ll figure it out, but I’m desperate to.
“I mean, I want to get engaged, so I have to – I want to be engaged, like, now, so I have to get my shit together
quickly!”
“Yeah,
you do.” His tone is light – or as light as it can be, given that I’ve
basically just told him I’m terrified of getting engaged to him. This isn’t
brand-new information; we talked a little bit about my newly realized fear of
the engagement process, especially wedding planning, last night. But 24 hours
is hardly enough time to process something so overwhelming, especially when he’s just told me that he’s picked out a
ring – he’s just waiting for the right time (logistically, geographically,
emotionally, and financially) to buy it. That’s part of what started all this
engagement anxiety, but this latest bout of word vomit is much more high-energy
than the calm, measured conversation we had last night about my general fears.
Let me explain: right before picking him up this afternoon,
I went to a consignment boutique in Berkeley* and let go of my wedding dress
– hopefully for the last time.
I thought it would be no big deal – I’ve been planning to sell the dress for weeks now, had ads up in various parts of the
internet…but then, walking down Fourth Street, past alfresco diners and
families with little kids, feeling their eyes on the white garment bag in my
arms and imagining their gaze burning on my empty left ring finger, the low,
heavy feeling of dull sadness in my belly welled up and grew into anxiety in my
chest. And then standing in the showroom with all those beautiful dresses,
discussing the terms of the agreement with the owner of the store and
cheerfully pointing out my favorite details of the dress (those pockets, that tuxedo pleat!) my heart was conflicted between a feeling of
excitement – about dresses (I only just started watching Say Yes to the Dress again!) and my boyfriend and moving forward into a new
future – and deep sadness/disconnect – can I really do this again? Is it ruined
for me forever? Do I even want it or do I insist on it to prove something to
myself or the world? Or do I only think
I don't want it because it hurts so much to think about putting myself in that
vulnerable position – announcing to the world how much I love and trust my
partner –risking humiliation and devastation all over again?
As I told my therapist when we talked about the ring
development: the joy and terror are both so intense as to essentially cancel
each other out and leave numbness in their place. And oddly, when I think about
being married to my boyfriend, I only feel good things – maybe a halo of fear
that it'll end in heartbreak, but mostly calm happiness. But when I even begin
to think about being engaged, and especially planning a wedding, my heart races
and my breath goes shallow and fast and it's hard for me to think straight
through the fear.
We’re in a major state of change right now: at the end of
the summer we’re moving to Washington State, which is very exciting but also
sad and scary; for a while now we’ve been talking about marriage and kids and
buying property in a way that makes it all feel simultaneously far-off and immediate;
we’re both trying to get into new careers and support each other through a lot
of family upheaval and drama. In all this, I never really paused to think about
how it might feel to get engaged…again. I’ve been clear from the outset that I want
to get married and have kids; it was my boyfriend who needed more time to get
on board. But he’s on board now, and while I think he bears the usual fears
that any person might deal with, I don’t think he can possibly understand
(however hard he tries) the panic that overtakes me when I think about trying
it again.
I think it’s because the engagement was really where the cracks
started showing with my ex; of course now, with hindsight, it’s clear that he’d
begun to stray emotionally long before the proposal, but for me it really
started there. And so I was planning the wedding and telling the proposal story
(only when asked – I’m not a monster) and, Jesus, buying a dress between floods of tears – all fueled by faith that
we would get through this thing that
was happening between us. But we didn’t. We couldn’t. And I couldn’t see that
until it was nearly too late (I suppose ‘too late’ would mean I married him).
And for all that my current boyfriend is completely different
from my ex, much more communicative and self-aware, it’s hard to think about
mustering that same faith again. I feel a bit like I lost that particular
religion, and I don’t know how to get it back.
I just hope my therapist can help me process and exorcise
this fear, so I can get engaged to the man I love and find happiness in a
family of my own. And hey, if she can’t, maybe we’ll just skip the whole engagement
thing and elope!**
* The dress is at Emerald City Gowns, should any Bay Area
locals with excellent taste want to try it on and maybe buy it ;)
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