This post was originally written June 2018
This year my husband and I celebrated our fifth wedding anniversary.
Looking back it seems like both yesterday and forever ago, that we walked down the isle.
My husband loved our wedding day. He loved everything about it. The party, the people, the location… EVERYTHING. He still talks about how much he enjoyed the day.
Other people tell us that too… the consensus is, we through one heck of a party
But, when I look back on our wedding, I have little pit in my stomach. It’s a hard thing to describe, but I wish I could go back and do our wedding over. I’d like to do it as the person I am today, and not the person I was back then.
I remember mid afternoon on our wedding day, my cousin got all giddy and asked “isn’t this the best day of your life??” …
I half smiled and thought to myself “gosh, I hope not”
I felt like I could puke.
When I look back, our wedding represents a time in my life where I was so so so insecure.
I questioned myself, was worried what other people thought and was afraid to ask anyone for help.
I wish I could go back and do that day over as the confident person that I am now, NOT the person I was pretending to be.
Let me explain.
For those of you who just started following along, I’ll summarize the first years of our relationship.
It was a whirlwind. I LOVE our love story.
Our first date was March 28, we moved in together that summer, were engaged in October, married in June, pregnant with Reese in August.
I remember when we announced our pregnancy, a friend commented on Facebook, “wow you guys don’t do anything slow do you?!”
No we didn’t. We still don’t.
We know what we want and we go for it.
While our family and friends were like, “what the heck is going on here?“, we were so caught up in our love story that we didn’t think anything of it. At least that’s what we told ourselves.
On the outside it would seem that I was confident and secure and didn’t give a crap what anyone thought. I wanted to do life with this man, and that’s what I was going to do.
When the day finally came, I became increasingly worried about what this day meant to my soon to be husband.
Thoughts like these went through my head on repeat. All while I sat there with a smile on my face.
- he’s done this before, will this still be special for him?
- he’s already said vows to someone, and look how that turned out
- do people think this is a joke?
- does his family really want me to be apart of theirs?
- what is my dad going to say during his speech? (at the beginning he was pretty clear that he didn’t think this was a good idea – you can read about that here)
- do they think I’m just a young, midlife crisis, rebound wife?
- what if he changes his mind last minute and gets cold feet?
- this HAS to be too good to be true
In fact, I think I may be the only bride who looked at my dad before he walked me down the Isle and said, “holy *&^% I think I”m going to puke” . HIs response, “I’m not sure you’re supposed to say that right now Jamie”
Like I said, I’d give anything to be able to go back and walk down that isle as the woman I am today.
The woman who knows that being his second doesn’t mean that our firsts are any less important to him.
That in marrying him I get a better version of him that I would have ever gotten if I were his first.
That other people’s opinions are absolutely none of my business.
That living your life according to what other people think you should do, will result in a life full of regret and mediocrity.
I wish I knew that there is no shame in being the “second wife” – that over time we would create our own memories and traditions. Soon I wouldn’t think of myself as the “second wife”. I’d simply be just “his wife”
But I was 26 years old, changing my entire life, taking on an insta-family, and well, I just wasn’t at that place yet. It’s like they say, you don’t know what you don’t know.
But even though I wish I could back, I do reflect and smile. I think about where we were, and how far we’ve come and how much we’ve changed together.
I smile and think about how crazy it is, that the insecure person who walked down the isle mumbling profanities to her father, now overshares her musings on the Internet to support other stepmoms who feel the same.
What a ride!!!
My point? f you’re also a new stepmom feeling insecure about being the second, remember what I said. There is no shame in being his second, it doesn’t make your firsts any less important.
And hey, chances are you’re getting a way better version of him, because I’m willing to bet that his first marriage taught him a lesson or two.