As I started the Spring cleaning attempt, I came across the cover for my wedding dress. Still perfectly white, but still empty.
As some of you know, Corey and I traveled to Seattle to have our wedding pictures retaken since we didn't have the memories we had hoped for from our very stressful wedding day. He packed his suit, I packed my wedding dress, my brand new Canon 6D plus gear, and all of our anniversary date clothes.
On the way home, my bag was misplaced and never found. I was put through the ringer trying to find it, and so was a friend. (You can read about that story here)
As some of you also know, I'm still bitter about it, so if you choose to read on, this is definitely just a social opportunity for me to be sad and complain. I just really really need to bitch about it, okay?
As I sit here, holding this bag that used to protect the one thing I cherished from my wedding(besides my husband), I have to confess that I am filled with emotion and letting out the ugly Kardashian cry. That dress held a lot of memory, good and bad. But it was full to the brim of memory, no matter what connotation.
Our wedding wasn't dream fulfilling because of multiple different choices and reasons. The biggest regret I have from that day and the only person who was at fault for missing the mark, was me. I didn't fight for my dream because I was utterly overwhelmed with what other people wanted instead of going to battle for myself. It was a desperate attempt for perfection, but quickly diluted by my desire for pleasing the people who I loved.
I needed to give myself a reset button, and I was excited for our Seattle photo shoot to be that. Scheduling conflicts inevitably came about, and we missed the opportunity to have our pictures retaken.
So, Corey and I have decided to save for a trip to Ireland for our 5 year anniversary to do sort of a "redo" on our wedding, have our pictures taken, and to renew our vows. Now, finding a dress is part of the process, but taking the steps to look for one that will make me feel as stunning as the one that was taken from me, breaks my heart.
I don't want to replace it. I don't want to forget what it looks like, or how I felt. My boobs were glorious, I had an hourglass figure(for once in my butt-less life), and it had a slit that peeked up my left, skinny leg that was waxed and soft. It KILLS me that Lenni will never see the dress that I wore, or have the opportunity to wear it herself if she chose. I don't have anything to pass down from our wedding to her except the small flower that I wore in my hair. I desperately wanted to give her the textured lace piece that adorned me on the beginning of her father's and my love story.
I've decided to throw this bag away. I need to throw this away. I need to let go and move on, and let Ireland be the "renewal" that we want it to be. I get to show my daughter a new dress that marks the date of being married to her father for 5 years. I get to show her pictures on cliffs overlooking the ocean that touches the Irish beach. I'm learning to be excited for change and embracing each day that passes. It will definitely be a slow process, but it will happen.
I miss my dress, but I am officially done bitching. The end.