I’d been to the top of the aisle thousands of times. On listless summer afternoons I’d lie on my back with my feet in the air, daydreaming about bridesmaid dresses and matching Jordan Almond favors. On a good third date, I’d decide on our first dance, a song unique and special to us, in anticipation of our wedding in 2.5 years from now. Since I was 5 years old, I’d been drawing a mock-up of my bouquet, overflowing with wildflowers.
That’s why, while it actually happened, it had already been lived as a memory—the old photo amusing my great-great-grandchildren.
My wedding felt like a story that had already been processed and passed down, so I wondered if it would be possible to be entirely present for it.
Good news: I was.
I didn’t know how much it would still manage to surprise me: the hot pink ribbon I requested for my bouquet, the fun of hearing “Congratulations!” from onlookers during photos, and the thrill of seeing old friends smiling at me as I walked into one of my favorite restaurants.
People ask me if anything’s changed since that restaurant evening, which in many ways felt like an exaggerated version of an ordinary Friday night.
For Mr. Mari, no. He’s a naturally devoted person, 100% in on everything he does. When I brought up the exclusivity conversation a few weeks after our first date, I led with “I know we’re in a grey area…” He responded, “It’s never been a grey area for me.” (and my heart exploded with glitter)
That’s how he is: committed, devout, all in.
I, on the other hand, reserve a part of myself in everything I do. I protect myself by keeping the door slightly ajar with my foot, ready to skedaddle, just in case.
I didn’t even notice how much I’d been doing this until a couple days after the wedding, when I realized how RELAXED I was. Maybe for the first time in my adult life. I let the door close at last. No more anticipating what always seemed like the inevitable: being left.
I mean, he could definitely still leave me; it would just be very expensive at this point.
So that part of myself I used to reserve—just in case—is out in the open now.
“I’m really excited to be married,” I told a friend over the summer, and continued talking. “I’m going to stop you there,” she interrupted, “I want you to realize that you said I’m excited to be married. Not get married.” I smiled. Personal growth!, I thought.
It was no longer about the Jordan Almonds and totally unique special first dance song. It was about closing the door and telling my soul it was safe now to come out of hiding.
That said, I absolutely loved planning a wedding. I loved co-creating a ritual, and cultivating an experience, and dreaming an atmosphere. I love hosting, and I like to think I specialize in fun. I wanted it to be really fun.
I also wanted it to become the spiritual vortex that I believe a wedding should be. I asked my brilliant friend Amanda, a recent seminary grad and extraordinarily thoughtful speaker, to officiate the ceremony and deliver the most stunning reflection to a rapt crowd.
I invited my beloved Pastor Will to say a prayer before dinner, and by the time he got up to read it, the strangers at his table had already become friends, chanting and clapping “YEAH TABLE SIX!!!!” (One of my favorite moments.)
His prayer began:
O God, whose heart beats in endless love for every creature on this earth,
You teach us that your dream for the world is just like this night: a wedding feast, full of wine and sumptuous food, and laughing and crying and hands thrown up in abandon as bodies move and hearts are lifted and spirits are glad.
You teach us that when it seems that hope has run out, that the party is coming to an end, that when the world shows us scarcity, you always provide more, like water turned to wine at a wedding just like this. And joy and life always find a way to go on in your abundance.
I wanted the music to resonate and uplift. I put some samba songs on the playlist for cocktail hour, knowing that our friend’s Brazilian wife was coming. I had Taylor Swift love ballads playing as people took their seats, specifically to put my friend Henry in a good mood as he’d traveled from London to be there.
I hoped Mr. Mari would smile as soon as he heard Stevie Wonder croon, “Sunnyyyyy” (the name of our cat/child) during dinner, and I snuck an ABBA song in the dance playlist for the Swedes.
Here are the playlists; I’m so proud of them…
Cocktail Hour (put this on and TRY not to smile!!)
Dinner (my ideal of candles-and-flower romance)
Dance (I’ve never worked harder on any project. The perfect flow.)
No DJ needed!!!
I’m also so proud that I LOVED wearing my dress. It’s my favorite thing I’ve ever worn, an absolute blast to move around in. It came out exactly as I envisioned: part old-world Spanish and new-world Mexico, with traditional details and LOTS of color (hot pink/orange shoes, chartreuse earrings, and gold nails).
And I’m proud that my favorite moment was slipping outside to sign the license, fully embodied and completely at peace, ready to be all in.
Now for some photos!!
Invitations
Of course I wanted to draw the invitations, but I was far less picky than I thought I would be. I doodled this sketch of the restaurant venue and surrounding neighborhood (spot Sunny!) very quickly, and decided it was good enough! I wanted to set the tone for a very light, colorful, and joy-filled event, hence the bright pink and gold: