Friday afternoon I went to another bridal salon. I'd made peace with the fact that I might need to stretch my budget a few hundred, and I was trying to be open-minded about styles because you just never know what might look good on you. That said, some of my cynicism still lingered. It's just a stupid piece of clothing that you wear one day of your life.
Our salesgirl was delightful, chatting me up as she clamped me into over-sized gowns while my mom, sister and niece waited outside on the couch. The first dress elicited gasps and doe eyes from my relatives. Even I was taken aback at how beautiful it was. And it fit me in a way I'm not sure any other dress has in my life (in terms of the lines, not the clamps).
Dress #2 was also gorgeous. Again, the family swooned when I walked out to show them.
I tried on 5 or 6 more, each stunning in their own way...but the first two were the clear winners. I had a choice to make. Suddenly I was invested in this whole dress business.
I put on the first dress again and this time our lovely salesgirl brought me a veil. She attached it to the crown of my head as I stood on one of the seamstress floor-risers. My mom and sister were behind me, fanning out the train. I looked at myself. I looked at my family. And then without any warning, I burst into tears.
NEVER would I have predicted this would happen to me. I am the jaded bride. Not the weepy one. But there I was, overflowing with this feeling of rightness and joy that THIS was the gown for me.
The tears were such a surprise—totally unexpected. I realize now that it could have been the reality of the entire situation setting in, in a single moment. I'm marrying Mr. Wonderful. I'm going to walk down an aisle toward him and make lifelong promises. And for whatever reason, I could see myself doing it in THAT dress.
I thought I would be happy just to check the darn dress shopping off my list. But now, like a big schmoopy chick, I'm happy that I bought a dress I absolutely love.