You’re engaged and feeling the pressure to throw a big fairytale wedding. You really don’t want a large celebration, but feel like you have to please everyone else. What to do?
While the scenario above isn’t me at all, here’s an idea for how to avoid all the fuss: Get married on a large isolated island where it’s too far away and too expensive to fly to. Make sure to book in an inconvenient time so that the few friends you do know on the island can’t make it. Let them know about it two days before the actual date.
It’s been awhile since I posted something that I reflected much upon, and I guess that’s because in the past week what’s been churning in the back of my mind is my impending Big Day. I haven’t been sure how to approach the subject on paper.
Tomorrow, I’ll be wed in the city hall to my very own beloved Dane. Last week we enquired about times and took the first open spot available. It ended up being the following Monday at 3pm. We have three guests confirmed who can squeeze it into their work schedule; including a high school friend of Jonas’ and his wife who will act as our required witnesses. Jonas himself is waking up at the ghastly hour of 4.50am, and working all day until he heads over to the city hall about 2.30pm.
It’s a lower-key event than I ever thought would be logistically possible, considering I’m an Asian with lots and lots of much-loved extended family.
We found a date last week after months of trying to avoid having to get married so quickly. We’re doing it so that there’s one less reason to kick me out of the Kingdom of Denmark. There is cause to think that this could possible; they rejected our last visa application (to Denmark) on a technical and very much debatable moot point. If they reject my application for Greenland, I will have to leave the country (and the Schengen area) for three months.
I never wanted the big princess wedding, but getting married this way made me feel a little sad at first. We will have no family and hardly any friends present. This is like getting married in Vegas except we don’t have to pay for our witnesses to be present. We also won’t be drunk. Still, although it’s impromptu, it’s a highly considered decision. Years of being in a long distance relationship have caused the both of us to deliberate whether we really want to be together. Heck, we’ve lived in four different continents to be with each other.
It probably won’t be the happiest day of my life. It will still be very special. We will marry on the world’s largest island on one of the coldest spring days I’ve ever experienced in my life. I will likely march into the hall with my ski pants and fat jacket on, and change into heels and a simple dress that I bought in a Brighton vintage store. We won’t have a celebration with friends tomorrow; instead we’ll go out after and have a nice dinner just the two of us. Next weekend, in honour of the country we live in, we’ll hold a ‘kaffemik’ for whoever wants to come, to celebrate both getting hitched and Jonas’ birthday.
We’ve discussed that one day in the future we would like to hold a ‘proper’ celebration with our friends and family. Maybe somewhere warmer, hopefully by the beach. I’ll hope to wear a long gorgeous dress and feel like a blushing bride. Have some fun scaring the in-laws with my grand plans. Have a tea ceremony. Cut some socks off. Giggle with the girlfriends.
For now, I’m content that tomorrow, for better or for worse, I’m going to marry my love.
It will be wonderful.
- Kaffemiks: every well-bred lady should know how to bake, right? (thefourthcontinent.com)