The Tuesday After "I Do"

A husband’s reflection on love and the joy of seeing it begin again

Katie and I spent last Saturday evening at our friend Emily’s wedding. Her closest friends and family gathered for a beautiful evening that had the usual wedding chattel: floral arrangements, bubble blowing, an archway nestled in front of a picturesque landscape, thinly sliced cake, chilled champagne and heartfelt speeches. In many ways, if you’ve seen one wedding, you’ve seen them all — and yet, since Katie and I met, I’ve loved seeing every single one.

Before we were even engaged, Katie and I visited a local bridal show in Alcoa. As I stood in line with her waiting to get in, I noticed that there were very few men in attendance. Katie informed me that a lot of men don’t like participating in the wedding planning, so this type of show was often only attended by the bride-to-be and a select few others from her bridal party. I thought this was silly, but she seemed to be correct.

We spent the next hour talking with venue owners, learning the prices of various videography and photography packages, discussing the different forms of send-offs, watching a rather vivacious fashion show, entering to win an all-expenses-paid wedding (we lost), and sampling the famous mashed potato bar from local barbecue chain Calhoun’s. At one point during the afternoon, we found ourselves sitting in the lobby sipping free champagne and balancing a plate with various wedding cake samples on our knees. We were living our best lives at this event, and I declared that men were stupid for not wanting to be a part of it.

That excitement has since made its way into not only our own wedding almost three years ago, but the weddings of our friends. Like Katie, I love an opportunity to dress up and there still aren’t many gastronomic combos that I love more than champagne and cake. We love dancing together and we take hors d’oeuvres sampling very, very seriously.

Yet despite my genuine love for all the party elements of wedding attendance, my favorite part of the wedding is hearing two people declare their commitment to one another. Since Katie and I got married, I’ve consistently struggled to not be full-on boo-hoo’ing when I hear other couples describe their love and commitment at the altar. It’s such a beautiful thing and I get genuinely excited knowing that somebody else somewhere in the world feels the same way about another person as I feel about my wife.

Seeing Emily and her beau holding each other tightly, eyes closed, during their first dance, I thought about how exciting it was for me to be in the same position. It was so great to share that moment with my now-wife, to celebrate with cake and champagne, to dance the night away and run away with the woman of my dreams … but the best part was knowing that the wedding itself was merely a symbol of what comes next.

Coincidentally, Adam Born of Born Fitness touched on this same idea in his Insider newsletter over the weekend. While discussing a friend who feels as though they’ve “aged out” of milestone events, Adam argues that those milestones are merely illusions and that the true beauty of life lies in the minutiae and daily activities that lead up to them. He specifically calls out weddings thusly:

We prepare for months – sometimes years – for the wedding. The dress, the music, the vows. But the wedding, beautiful as it is, is a single day. A prologue. The story doesn’t really start until the next morning, when you’re learning what it means to love someone in-between, on a random Tuesday when you’re both tired and slightly annoyed and still choose each other.

Believe me, when I married Katie, I was all about getting to post those photos online and update my marital status in an attempt to announce to the world that not only was I married, but I had married an absolute smoke-show-supermodel-bombshell blonde the likes of which no mortal man can comprehend. But my true excitement lay in the knowledge that I was going to get to spend those “random Tuesdays” with her. I get to be the one doing her dishes on a weeknight and washing her laundry on a Friday. Sure, I get to puff my chest out and strut when she’s dolled up and we’re going out on the town together, but I also get to refill her coffee on Saturday mornings, rub her feet when she’s been on them all day, and be her neutral sounding board when the stresses of her day are ailing her.

Our wedding was beautiful and I’m always so hyped to celebrate our own milestones, anniversaries and the lot with her … but my proudest achievement in this life is getting to be the guy who brings her a pumpkin cheesecake cookie while she lounges in the comfy chair on a Monday night as we both watch Desperate Housewives. I get to be the guy who’s there in between Instagrammable moments, even when they’re boring, ugly, or inappropriate.

Coincidentally, this is being posted on the five-year anniversary of our first date. I’m a very lucky person to get to know, experience and be present within this kind of love, and I’m thrilled that Emily is now living in her own version of this world.

Because there’s nothing more beautiful than seeing love begin all over again.

Now somebody else get married and invite us!

-jtf