I’m living proof that things don’t always work out the way you plan them. And as a serial planner and list maker, I can tell you that the let down can be devastating. Like when you plan a girls weekend in Cancun and instead of partying the night away at the hottest club on the strip you end up with swollen lips and an upset stomach because you forgot your SPF lip balm and accidentally drank tap water. Or when you score a birthday reservation for dinner at one of New York’s best restaurants only to have your party of 12 turn to a party of 3 (and 2 of those people are you and your boyfriend). Or when you browse Anthropologie’s website prior to going to the store and make a list of your favorite dresses only to go to the store and have none of them come up past your hips and big behind.
Consider weddings. Most of us women have them planned in our heads by the time we hit puberty. I was one of them. And once our relationships hit a certain length we imagine all the different ways our boyfriends will propose and practice all the ways we will react. I was one of those too.
So you can imagine that it took me a bit to soak in the fact that not only would I not be having the wedding I always dreamed of but that I would be doing the proposing. Almost 29 years of planning went out the window the day I decided I would propose to my then boyfriend on a plane bound for Maui. Somewhere over the Pacific I popped the question. After he said yes I then hit him with surprise #2 – I had arranged for us to get married two days later on a secluded beach at sunset in the company of an officiant, photographer and musician.
My wedding day was a truly magical day – pancakes for me and a waffle for him for breakfast followed by cocktails and fresh fruit by the pool. We got all dolled up (took a little longer for me because it was my wedding day after all) and then took a short ride to a nearby secluded beach. We exchanged vows, shared in a first dance and enjoyed the rest of our evening as husband and wife. There were flowers, pretty shoes, a seafood dinner and an awesome cake. Most important of all though, there was me and him. After 8 years together, I can’t imagine spending the rest of my life with someone else. And thank the heavens that I ditched the plan and took the leap faith.
There’s no cake here to celebrate our first year of marriage. That’s because the way to my man’s heart is through chocolate chip cookies
Happy anniversary babe – hope the next 50+ years are even better than the last