I miss the innocence

I have been engaged twice. 
I have planned a wedding twice. 
Experienced the feelings of excitement and anticipation—twice.

Tried the words “wife” and “husband” on my lips twice. 
Twice practiced a new last name with my first name.
I’ve been given an expensive sparkly piece of jewelry twice. 
One sits on my finger awaiting it’s wedded counterpart. 
The other collects dust in a safe. 

I was 19.
It feels like another life.
Like another person. 
I don’t miss that season of life.
Being married the first time was a decade of pain. 
But I do miss the innocence. 

The quintessential June bride. 
The family that was 100% on board. 
Trauma had not yet tainted our expectations. 

My only responsibilities at the time were college and planning a wedding. I still slept in my childhood bunk bed, above my sister, where we giggled together each night. I spent an embarrassing amount of hours ruminating on colors. Should the ties be black or red—I can’t decide!

This time, I have a house, a big girl job, and a kindergartener. My family loves my fiance, and can see that this is different. But their emotions are restrained. They are afraid to be careless with their excitement. We have all experienced what the horror of a marriage gone bad can feel like. Like the sick joke of a chair being pulled out from behind you. So this time, we want to be wise. What did we miss? What did we do wrong? Could we have seen this coming? 

Fool me twice, shame on me. 

The Lord was faithful to teach me, pursue me, comfort me. But I miss the innocence. The pure visions of a future without the shame of divorce. 

This time, the wedding feels more like a means to an end. My friend tells me I’ll be glad we didn’t run off and elope. That the party will be redemptive. But picking flowers and colors and designing invitations again is at times painful. 

Do I reference the first folder I created on my harddrive labeled “wedding” to help with the planning of this one? I mean, wouldn’t it be efficient to pull up an old list? No … no… that would be too weird, I think. So I recreate the wheel of to-do lists. I push the first wedding out of my mind. And process all the emotions that come. 

I feel ecstatic one day, and fearful the next. I schedule sessions periodically with my therapist. I have spent countless hours exhaling on her couch. She knows I try to think and logic my way through everything. She has seen my worn pocket-sized grey notebook each session, and remembers that I like homework. So she encourages me, with one month left until the wedding, “You’ve thought it all through. You’ve done the work. Enjoy the rest of this engagement. Let yourself feel happy.” 

My soon-to-be-second-husband and I spend many hours and dollars of our time in pre-engagement and then pre-marital counseling. We want to be sure. Our thoughts navigate towards creating a strong foundation for our family, rather than the wedding day particulars. 

My first husband left, and when you’ve tried everything to make it work, there isn’t much more that can be done when you’re standing alone. But still, the shame doesn’t go away overnight. This time has to be different. 

The first time: Should I get 2” or 3” ribbon for the cake?
This time: Can we navigate life together as a team? 

The first time: Should we do chicken parmesan or chicken french?
This time: How do we handle conflict? 

The first time: I need to stop at a fifth wedding dress shop to be sure I’ve found the perfect one!
This time: Do we practice radical forgiveness with one another?

Someone recently repeated a Christianese phrase to us. She said, “You’ve followed the Lord and He will bless this marriage.” 

I followed the Lord, the best I knew how as an 18-year-old. Was I not doing it the right way?

A loss of innocence also brings with it hard earned wisdom. It is a mercy that the Lord brings us through hard circumstances, and is patient and gracious to teach and to sanctify us. Doing all the “right” steps does not guarantee a good outcome. It wasn’t true in my first marriage, and here’s the scary part - it unfortunately isn’t a guarantee in the next. 

But the loss I’ve experienced has also been great gain. I have learned that I have a faithful God that walks ahead of me in trial. My prayer and hope is for a life of joy with my future husband. I ask the Lord daily for many good decades with him. But I have learned that whatever comes, the Lord will never fail.

Your eyes saw my unformed body; all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be. Psalm 139:16