Tag Archives: Wedding

Ringing the changes

See what I did there? That was a pune, or play on words, because this post has nothing to do with campanology at all! Très drole. But it does have to do with change, and it does have to do with rings. My partner and I got unmarried last weekend.

Myself and my partner hugging, barefoot in a field, with bunting behind us

When my partner and I started admitting to and exploring our different sexualities a few months ago, so much of who we thought we had been fell away. Our lives changed, we changed.  I’ll spare you the details, but that change wasn’t, isn’t, always easy. I started a journal, and most of the pages are full of positive, excited things, but there are other pages smudged with tears that just have fuckfuckfuckIcan’tdothis written all over them. But I’ve sat with my feelings of hurt, of despair, of insecurity, and I’ve come out the other side a better, stronger person, and I know that I CAN do this. And that whatever “this” is, it’s totally worth the struggle. I had some good chats with my friend Allegra about this, who then wrote a great blog post about “The transformative nature of discomfort”. Well worth a gander.

Aside to this, I had been unhappy for a long while with my boring gold wedding band. I never wear gold, and I only wear pretty. It seemed to me to be less like jewellery and more like a badge, or a stripe of office – I’m married to someone, I’m taken, I’m a respectable traditionalist and allowed to have children. I’m not saying this is what I think when I see someone else wearing one – I love all you marrieds out there, I want to give you a squishy hug and bake you a cake full of rainbows and smiles; I’m just saying this is how I felt I had been labelled.

Anyway, I digress.
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Nice day for a white wedding

Fourteen years ago today, I got married in possibly the most traditional style I can think of. White dress, chauffer-driven car, suits, full Catholic mass, taking my husband’s name, big flowers, buffet in a sports hall, you name it. The groom even had a hangover from his previous night’s stag do, that’s how traditional we were. The only thing that was slightly non-mainstream was the team of belled and ribboned morris dancers who gave us a guard of honour as we left the church. I didn’t have the first idea about organising a wedding, so fell back on what little I knew about “how you ought to do it”.  I didn’t want to rock any boats.  Ah well.

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Fourteen years ago I was a very different person to the one I am today. Today’s me would probably get married in the woods, or on the moors, with no car, no suits, no formality, probably no shoes, and definitely no church. My partner and I have already changed our surnames back to my maiden name, so any funny looks or mutterings about ‘weird hippies’ would pass us by. We would be surrounded by friends and family who actually know us (as opposed to ‘so-and-so’s great aunt’s sister would be *really* upset if she wasn’t invited’), and love us for who we are. Most of whom (this still knocks me back a bit) we didn’t even know fourteen years ago. We’d keep the morris dancers though, and probably add some rapper dancers too (mind you, a rapper guard of honour would be a very squished affair).

But anyway, today marks fourteen years of being “properly” married to my best friend. If we’ve changed in those years, we’ve changed together. And I hope we continue to do so.

[Maya Angelou]

[Maya Angelou]