In an effort to force myself to blog regularly, I’ll be making 3 confessions on Sundays. Seems like the right day for it. Please don’t judge me, but do share your own confessions in the comments. I need to know that I’m not alone on some of these.
13. I am a wedding crier.
This should come as no surprise since I am also a commercial crier, sad song crier, touching sermon crier, sympathy crier, book crier, little kids’ movie crier (Inside Out, anyone?!?), long day crier, beautiful sunset crier, powerful worship song crier, sad news story crier, high school graduations crier, national anthem crier…you get the idea.
But weddings? Weddings are the worst. I mean, they’re wonderful, but they’re guaranteed to make me lose it.
The tears typically start when the bride walks down the aisle. Sometimes they fall before I even see her but simply hear the music and see everyone stand. People still tease me about how much I cried during my sister’s wedding 14 years ago. I was standing up front BAWLING as Heidi and our dad walked down the aisle, since I realized for the first time that this meant my life was changing too. Now, just as Pavlov’s dogs salivated at the sound of bells, it seems I have been conditioned to cry at the sight of a bride walking with her dad.
Naturally I lost it at my cousin Jenise’s wedding last week. She is the cousin who set up Paul and I, and as the final two female cousins to wed, we both had waited for our Mr. Rights to arrive for quite some time. She looked incredible and so very very happy. God had proved Himself faithful once again through the story of David and Jenise. So as I watched Jenise lock eyes with David, I remembered God’s goodness and the floodgates opened.
I know I’m not alone in my nuptial tears. The ring bearer broke down during the sermon because he thought the pastor was saying he would never get see his now married auntie. And after David and Jenise took the bread and the wine, my sister had mascara streaming down her cheeks as she whispered, “Communion gets me every time.”
What?! Now that’s weird.
This is also the sister who did not get the floral-print memo for the wedding:
I suppose it should also be a confession that I look like a mannequin seconds before a picture is taken.
14. I jumped on the Birkenstocks bandwagon.
I’ve been copying my big sister all my life and my closet is half-full of her hand-me-downs. (Can I get a AMEN, little sisters?) Heidi is one of those girls who always knows what’s trendy and pulls it off, no matter how ridiculous the trend. In 1999, she convinced me to buy “pedal pushers” before anyone else was wearing capri pants. A few years ago, she bought me lacy shorts from Wet Seal before any of the other stores were carrying them.
Two weeks ago, I made fun of her for wearing Birkenstocks because they seem soooo out of style. But she assured me they had made the full circle and were now back in style. Naturally I copied my cool big sister and went and bought some of my own. (Well, the imitation-brand. The real deal are expensive!) Turns out the sandals of our youth are really quite comfortable.
15. I talk to myself.
Based on the number of people I catching conversing with themselves, I’m guessing you do too. It’s really not so weird. Sometimes you just gotta talk it out.
But I had no idea just how much I was talking to myself until I got married. Before Paul, chats with Katie were a normal thing but only my cat would overhear. Now that I share a room and a bed with another human, I’ve had to curb some of the solo-Katie convos.
However, the other day Paul was at work and I was home packing a suitcase. Prime time to talk to oneself. “How many bathing suits will I need? Well, we’ll be there 3 days so I should probably bring 4. No, 5. Maybe 6? Yeah, definitely 6. Should I bring a sweatshirt? Duh, I always get cold. But which one? Let’s see here…. Alaska hoodie, you are the winner.”
And so forth and so on. Don’t tell me you don’t have similar self-talks.
But in the middle of the great underwear debate (you never want to have too few undies), Paul arrived home an hour early. I had left the front door open for a breeze to come through, but this made for an ideal scaring environment. Paul tip-toed to our room and yelled the classic, “Boo!”
You know the whole “fight or flight” saying? I think it should be, “fight or flight or scream and fall into the fetal position.” You can guess which one I did.
Now it’s your turn. Do you scream and fall when startled? Do others catch you shooting the breeze with your lonesome? Do you wear ugly shoes simply because they are comfortable or in style? Do you copy your sibling because they’ve always been cooler than you? Do you lose it at weddings or cry at weird moments? I’d love to hear any and all of your me-too confessions.