Most girls dream of their wedding day.
The perfect man, the perfect dress, the perfect venue, the perfect cake, the perfect first dance, the perfect day.
I am not most girls. I grew up announcing loudly to anyone who would listen that I was “never going to get married or have a wedding, pfffttt.”
Never say never.
I did however, maintain my stance against weddings.
My experience of weddings were dreadful, long-drawn out affairs filled with too many people I didn’t know or like, bad greasy Chinese food and cheesy slide shows of the couple from the time they were babies to the time they met (what’s the point?), and me just wishing I was spending my Saturday night somewhere else, doing something else.
I hated getting wedding invitations, as that meant I had to a) go or b) lie to get out of it.
So when I did meet my perfect man and he proposed, we agreed: NO WEDDING.
My poor mother, who’s had to deal with her unconventional daughter all her life, did not seem surprised at my announcement that there would be no wedding. She did her best to persuade me otherwise, to no avail.
To no one’s surprise, we did not have a wedding, complete with no official wedding photos, no wedding dress, no wedding first dance.
Instead, on November 15, 2007, a Thursday, my future groom and I were in Australia, his adopted country. We woke up bright and early, and I donned my custom-made cheongsam in navy blue and he looked handsome in his newly purchased Hugo Boss suit.
We walked the 5 minutes to the Registrar, with his mother and two brothers. We waited 30 minutes before the civil ‘ceremony’, during where we joked about the drab waiting room with its brown carpets, fake flowers and uncomfortable floral armchairs.
We were ushered into the ceremony room, and I giggled at the pipe-in cheesy romantic ballads from the ’90s.
The two of us stood awkwardly in front of the marriage celebrant and said our short vows (we chose the shortest version, of course), and he put the ring on my finger (He didn’t get one. We’re non-conformist, remember?).
We then sat down and signed the marriage certificate and looked on as our two witnesses (his brothers) scrawled their signatures, then took a few pictures next to some dusty fake plants.
It was over in 20 minutes.
Afterwards, we walked to a nearby cafe for coffee, looking decidedly out of place in our dressed-up-ness. After a glorious two hour nap at the hotel (yes it was JUST A NAP), we got dressed up again in our suit and cheongsam, drove to the beach and had fish and chips for lunch.
Who’s to say we had any less of a perfect day?
Happy 7th Anniversary to my Sweetie, father of my children, and love of my life.