Why Postponing My Wedding Sucked So Much (From Someone With Commitment Issues)
I never thought I would get married. I never thought anyone would see enough value in me to drop down on one knee and propose. I never thought someone would want me for more than a week, a month, a year, a decade. I never thought someone would be able to look past my countless flaws and focus on the positive. I never thought I would find someone who connected with me on such a deep, spiritual level.
More than that, I never thought I would feel comfortable enough to commit to someone. I have a fear of intimacy, fear of abandonment, fear of commitment. I’m scared of letting down my walls and letting someone else into my heart. I’ve always done my best to push others away as soon as they’ve stepped close. I’ve always prided myself on protecting my heart, despite how my happiness might be impacted.
I never thought I would find someone who made me feel comfortable enough to open up about my past, someone who made me feel like settling down was in my best interest, someone who made me feel like everything was going to be okay in the end. I never thought I would be the type of person who got so damn excited about planning a wedding, picking out a dress, tasting cakes, sending out invitations.
When those things finally happened for me, when I finally found a partner who I trusted to never let me down, the world let me down. The wedding had to be postponed. The honeymoon had to be canceled. We lost money. We lost vendors. We lost our excitement.
I know the world is bigger than me, know it doesn’t revolve around my thoughts and opinions, but it still feels like some sort of cruel joke to take a girl who is terrified of marriage, put her in a position where she’s finally comfortable with the idea of walking down the aisle, and then take it all away. It feels like maybe I’m not supposed to be married after all. It feels like maybe it was a mistake to think I could end up with a happily ever after.
There’s no doubt in my mind I’ve picked the right person. I’m not second guessing him. We’re going to spend the rest of our lives together, regardless of whether we make it official in front of an audience. What I’m second guessing is something bigger, something unseeable, something existential.
It makes me wonder whether I deserve happiness, whether it’s even obtainable for someone so damaged and flawed as me.
It makes me wonder whether these milestones society deems important make a difference after all, whether they will truly bring me happiness or only the illusion of happiness.
It makes me wonder whether there’s any point in getting married when the connection between two people is so much more significant than what you call that connection.
It makes me wonder whether marriage is meant for someone like me after all.