It’s been a week since my wedding. After months and months of planning, going over the details with a fine-tooth comb, and arguing with my fiancé and family about logistics, the day has finally come and gone. And I'm left wondering: What exactly am I supposed to do with myself now?
Before my engagement, I had a life. As a New Yorker, there were always parties and events to attend, and as a happy recluse, there were also always endless hours of Netflix. But when the wedding planning started, those other parts of my life sort of disappeared. I had one focus and one focus only: creating a party — a great party — that my friends and family would never forget. It sounds easy enough, but it wasn't. And now that the party is over, I've crashed.
I feel a sense of emptiness, a postpartum depression; like I’m forgetting something. I find myself double-checking my wallet, my passport, my handbag, and my work schedule. I forgot to put on underwear twice this past week, and not in a sexy way. I just legitimately forgot.
On my wedding day, I didn’t get to sleep until almost 5am. Despite having not wanted to drink too much, I overdid it with the champagne. When we finally made it to the family brunch two hours late the next afternoon, I was emotionally spent. It was an exhaustion I had never felt before, and in my loss for understanding the foreign feeling, I cried. Actually, I cried a lot.
I cried the whole way to the brunch, then a few times in the bathroom. I couldn’t explain to anyone why I was so upset, or from where the emptiness was coming, but it was real and it was not going away. I was going to be sick, and it wasn't just the hangover. I knew it was something more.
I went about the day after my wedding feeling like a ghost. I no longer had to worry about the food at the reception; whether or not the weather would behave for the ceremony; if the playlist I had put together would fit everyone’s tastes; or if I had created a party that my friends would talk about for the next several weeks. All those concerns were gone, and the only one that remained was being able to get through the goodbye dinner without crying. I was ready for my wedding to be over, but I wasn’t ready for my friends and family to leave.
I now understand why honeymoons exist. Back in the day, it may have been a way for newlyweds to consummate the marriage and get to know each other more, but these days, it’s because the bride and groom just need a vacation.
But now that we're a few days into our honeymoon in Italy, I realize that perhaps we should have waited to take this trip. While Olivier seems content, I feel like something’s been ripped from me. If I’m not trying to convey whether or not my bridesmaids know what true Tiffany blue is, then who am I? I have been THAT person since September and now that person is no longer. I’m just me again. And I’m out of practice.
I feel fidgety and abandoned, as if my hands have no purpose now that I’m not waving them around maniacally demanding that everything go as well as it could. I feel a sense of emptiness, a postpartum depression; like I’m forgetting something. I find myself double-checking my wallet, my passport, my handbag, and my work schedule. I forgot to put on underwear twice this past week, and not in a sexy way. I just legitimately forgot.
The problem with putting so much of your life into one thing — no matter what that one thing is — is that when it’s all over and done with, you feel robbed. I find myself wondering: If this is how I feel now after my wedding, is this how I’ll feel after I score my ultimate dream of a book deal?
Perhaps I spent so much time on this one party for this one day that I let everything else in my life slide. And now, because of that, my retribution is complete and utter emptiness. Of course, I feel love and all that good stuff, because, how couldn’t I? But as far as my brain’s former obsession goes, I am without now.
I know that as the next several weeks pass I’ll become myself again. After all, I’m not the first or the last person to have a wedding. Everyone before me seems to have moved on, so I’m guessing my time will also come.
