As a child, weddings were regular events played out by my toys. Having been gifted Tracy and Todd (a set of husband and wife dolls complete in wedding attire) one Christmas, I would arrange other dolls and figurines of various sizes into an audience and have the bride and groom process, stand in front of their closest inanimate friends and exchange vows in front a Barbie doll missing her half of her hair. It was a classy and dignified affair.
But as I grew older, the dolls were thrown out or donated, and the thoughts of marriage went with them. I never pictured myself in the place of Barbie's cousin Tracy. I didn't have a longing for the white dress, the big fanfare or the handsome husband. Weddings were events my friends had and I stood on the periphery, only a guest or a bridesmaid, never a bride.
And then two weeks ago, after 14 months of planning, saving and fretting, I found myself standing at an altar and saying I do. I officially became Mrs. Hulk.
To say the events were surreal would be an understatement. Even though I was the one in the white lace dress standing in front of our friends and family and saying I do, it never felt like it was my day. I didn't cry over our vows, I didn't feel all that nervous about speaking in front of the crowd and I only tripped over my dress half a dozen times. Despite small hiccups, the day was fantastic and now I get to call the guy I love with all of my heart my husband for the rest of my life.
It’s amazing how childhood fantasies can be crushed by the cynicism of youth and young adult life, but it’s even more amazing that you can find the happiness you deserve despite it all. And as some of my family pointed out, I am ridiculously and obnoxiously happy.