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[bigletter]I chose to walk myself down the aisle… the symbolism of being ‘given away’ just didn’t sit well with me. Like many women, I did often think about what my wedding day would be like. Thoughts about what I would wear, where it would be, who I would marry, all things that I enjoyed talking about with friends, as I would see so many weddings portrayed in magazines, on television and in books. It was never an obsession, but ironically, after coming from a family where my parents got divorced at a young age and my mother never chose to re-marry, it’s interesting how significant this day used to feel. Hence the photo of me at my maybe 6th or 7th birthday party at a place called Let’s Dress Up, where I came out in the finale costume, wearing a white wedding dress for all my friends to see.[/bigletter]
Looking back at this photo, I feel conflicted. On one hand it warms my soul, knowing that despite the divorce of my parents and the relationship I no longer have with my father, I was still afforded a really full and loving childhood. I remember having so much love from my parents and many fashionable birthday parties at this same place every year. It’s clearly no surprise now, why something as simple as a vintage pearl handbag and broach fill me with automatic joy. However, the other side of me is quite taken by fact that I chose this costume as my grand finale look. Perhaps even more taken that a group of adults chose to manufacture and advertise a wedding dress for a child. Kids are great because at the core, their needs and opinions are so incredibly straightforward. And on this birthday, clearly I knew what outfit would garner the most praise, as there wouldn’t be a grand finale my six year old self would participate in without the standout costume of the day. It makes me sad that young girls are so attuned to the praise a wedding brings them, and it’s even sadder to think that I was one of them.
Fast forward into my twenties where getting married was less a priority and finding a decent guy to date in Los Angeles seemed somewhat insurmountable a task. The conversations my friends and I would have about dating were as entertaining as those portrayed on Sex and The City. But as I emerged further into my true self, the more and more I realized that for me to get married, I would have to really overcome the odds of being in an unequal partnership. Moving through life in Los Angeles, my education in Social Work and my obsession with the Real Housewives of anywhere, I just couldn’t shake the fear of being in a relationship in which my independence, livelihood or confidence were inextricably linked to my relationship with one person, who’s values, ego and goals would potentially be prioritized over mine. I often felt extremely conflicted on whether or not I even wanted to enter into the union of marriage itself. I knew I wanted to have a partner with which I could build a life with and raise children. But on the other hand, I was so enraged by some of the patterns I started to see in marriages reflected in real life and on television. I ultimately sought therapy with a wonderful woman who in many ways assisted me in sorting out some of the mess that I swam in, attempting to navigate what type of relationship I wanted to be in. I quickly learned exactly what I didn’t want and what non-negotiobales I had moving forward into a new relationship.
And then the 2016 election happened. Just when I was in the middle of dating again and attempting to navigate some of stuff women often deal with. Things like letting dates pay, or navigating when to become intimate with someone new, figuring out if men in heterosexual relationships could really see women as equals or if they just liked the idea of being challenged in theory. This election created a significant sismic shift for me in more ways than one. It forced me to reflect on my own values, when it seemed as if America was deftly attempting to navigate theirs. I remember disliking one date for being too macho and then another for his vulnerability. I remember being so confused about what I was looking for that for some time I just assumed what I wanted didn’t really exist. Fortunately, I was proven wrong just a few months later, when I met my now husband Arthur.
Shortly after getting engaged, I was faced with a fairly seamless descision, which was whether or not I’d walk myself down the aisle. In my mind, I always assumed I would. Given my personality, my fierce independence and the simple fact that halfway through my teenage years, after my father decided to move far away, I made a conscious decision to not continue a relationship with him. There was no definitive reason for this, and I can honestly say, nothing bad happened. But what I can say is that we never really had a close relationship and I think part of me decided very early on in my life, that my mother and younger sister were more than enough family for me. Of course as a therapist, I know that the separation of my parents was a loss, but I guess it all happened so gradually throughout my childhood that it didn’t really feel like that. And after processing my own stuff around it, I have come to an authentic place of peace and really have nothing but love and well wishes for him in my heart.
In the Jewish religion, both parents walk their son or daughter down the aisle to be wed. I think this is such a beautiful tradition and I love the symbolism of both parents, over just one, escorting their child into a new chapter of life with partner. My husband did just that at our wedding and I had many other options to do something similar perhaps with my mother and sister, which would had been beautiful given they also wore white as my only “bridesmaids” for lack of a better term. However, I chose to walk myself down the aisle, as it felt the most authentic to me, as I am an independent woman, choosing freely to join lives with this special person, entering as an equal, into a partnership.
I am not, nor will I ever be, one who’s given away.
As traditional as I can be in some many aspects of my life and particularly my personal style, this was one in which I respected the tradition but in no way felt it was applicable to me. And fortunately, I live in a country in which I am free to marry or not marry. Free to choose what I wear and how I treat my body. Free to choose a life that works for me and my own values, free to change my life if it no longer serves my wellbeing or happiness. Free to find a career that is fulfilling and free to give it up to be a stay-at-home-dog-mom if I so choose. Free to get an education and walk the streets in whatever outfit I choose to wear. These freedoms might not seem that big if you live in America but they represent years of evolution of culture, including evolution of tradition. Unfortunately many of these freedoms are not extended to every American equally, but I digress.
The origins of a man walking his daughter down the aisle and off to her future husband represent a tradition I don’t identify with as it essentially signified women being considered property of men. I realize 100% this tradition has taken on new meaning today for every unique individual, which I think is beautiful and have the upmost respect and admiration for. But I am so grateful to be the one making that choice.
All photography by Kellie Viagem
Wedding Dress by Liza
