I was never a rebellious kid. I never had that angsty teen phase where I hated everything and everyone, nor have I ever gotten myself into trouble. I'm not, and never was, the type to fight with my parents or cause a disagreement. In fact, I'm the happiest when everyone else is happy. Though, admittedly, sometimes this means backing down from asserting myself. Mr. Seashell is very similar to me in this way, except he is far better at defending his beliefs. That's the preface.
When it came time to seriously consider our wedding ceremony, Mr. Seashell and I were on the exact same page: we did not want a Catholic Mass. However, we were both raised Catholic.
We felt equally passionate about the fact that a Catholic Wedding did not reflect our beliefs and values. We talked about our vision for our wedding, the pieces that would be meaningful to us, reflect our world view as a couple, and ultimately feel right in our hearts. To us, a Catholic Wedding was a lie. The idea of standing before a priest, professing that we were Catholics and intended to raise future children as such, felt dishonest. These were not our intentions. On the day where I was to make solemn vows to my life's partner I couldn't rationalize doing something that felt so insincere.
The time came to tell our parents our wishes. Mr. Seashell's parents accepted the news well - they had strayed from the church and were comfortable with the idea of doing what felt right to us. They admitted that it might raise an eyebrow or two among family, but that wasn't reason enough to discourage our plans. My family was a different story. Mama Seashell is a devout Catholic, and words like "heartbroken, devastated, ego-centric, and selfish" became part of the dialogue. Our back and fourth went on for months. During this time, I met with a priest in the spirit of staying open-minded. I just couldn't do it. The Pre-Cana, the family planning...more importantly, the core beliefs were not my own. When I sought advice from family and friends I was surprised by how many people had a "just suck it up, that's what we did" mentality. Then, Mrs. Meatball wrote this post, and I swore it was written for me. Finally, Mr. Seashell and I really sat down with my parents. It wasn't pretty, but after some yelling and tears we were able to reach an understanding. It was clear that our choice was a disappointment, but the conversation eventually shifted to what our wedding ceremony was not to what it was.
{Photos: Blink of an Eye Photography}
We found someone wonderful to marry us. She listened, collaborated, validated our thoughts, and worked hard to create the ceremony we were seeking. She cried with us when Mr. Seashell's Mom passed away just two months before our wedding, and was thoughtful in how to include her memory. She skyped with us when we were 1,000 miles apart and needed to fine-tune the details. And, there's a teeny, tiny rebellious part of me that loves the fact that we were married by a woman (and a lesbian at that). Sorry, Catholics. I'll share all the details of our ceremony soon. The carefully chosen words, the structure, the homily and the resounding sentiment in general were precisely what we desired. Getting there was a headache and caused heartache, but so worth it.
What have you found worth fighting for?
