Guest Jessica Barksdale Inclan on
Being a Mature Bride
Being a Mature Bride
[ Among the many books she's written, Jessica Barksdale Inclan (Intimate Beings, The Beautiful Being) has most recently focused on The Being Trilogy with Being With Him releasing in mass market edition on September 7, 2010. According to the author, "This is a story of two people who have felt different and "other" all their lives, who manage to find each other. And then the fun begins!"
Soulmates united in writing....and in life? For Jessica is getting married on September 25th and she'll be a real bride this time, despite her initial reservations. In today's special guest post, the author shares the wisdom and joy of being a mature bride.]
There is the bride-to-be, standing on the platform in the bridal salon dressing room. She’s nervous, being yanked into a bridal gown. The attendant uses various clips and hard tugs to get the floor sample to fit. The bride’s mother sits in the corner of the room, beaming. She’s overjoyed, thrilled for her daughter.
The daughter turns, faces the mirror, the dress looks lovely, but what is wrong with this picture? If only she didn’t have all those wrinkles. And what about that bra? Will it hold up everything? Her seventy-two-year old mother nods, so glad to finally be able to take on the supportive mother role. It’s a bit late, of course, but at least it’s finally happening.
Five months ago, that bride-to-be was me. Though I am a “mature” bride at 48, I decided to give a bridal shop a go. I was just going to look around, and then I would head over to Nordstrom and get a regular dress.
My first wedding in 1985 was a too-late-for-a-shotgun affair, my boyfriend and I driving up to South Lake Tahoe for a “Church of the Many Delights” quickie wedding, while my mother babysat our nine-month-old son. I’d worn something I’d found on-the-rack, and there had been no bridal shop, no invitations, no shower, no gifts, no nothing. We got married, stayed at some Nordic-themed roadside motel for the night, and drove home and into the next twenty-three years.
Everything about this second go round is different. My fiancé Michael actually proposed. He put my engagement ring in my stocking on Christmas Eve, and then in front of all our four children and my mother, popped the question when I found the small blue box. He was down on his knee, asking for my hand. And I said yes because this time, I’m ready. This time, I know I’m right. This man is the man I will spend the rest of my life with.
For the first time in my life, I have a bone fide engagement ring. My first husband and I had been broke beyond broke back when we were 23, and we bought our wedding rings at a discount department store. Now, I have an actual diamond.
Proposed to, engagement ring, and then a wedding dress.
So I found myself standing on the dressing room platform, feeling sheepish as the lace went over my head. How stupid is this? I thought. This is ridiculous and wasteful. What would my college students think if they saw their English professor up here on this silly platform?
But then as I turned to face the mirror, I saw myself as a bride for the first time in my life. The white flowing dress meant that the day would be special. My mother smiled, I laughed, and I knew that I didn’t want to go to Nordstrom. Maybe I’m mature, maybe I’m slightly pruned from time, maybe I will never be a featured bride on Say Yes to the Dress, but I wanted a wedding gown. This wedding gown. So I bought it.
Even though a wedding seems an event for younger couples, my fiancé and I have invited 50 people to ours this September. We have registered at Crate and Barrel and Pottery Barn, making lists of things that we should and could buy on our own. After all, what do we really need? Michael is fifty-five, and both of us have been around the block a few times. We are not setting up a house. We’ve already had two households and merged them into one when we bought our house in Oakland, California last year. We don’t need to prepare for children—the children have flown the coop, all of them in their twenties.
But because that is what’s done, we did it, walking around the stores with that fabulous little scanning gun. We’ve ordered invitations. We’ve hired a wedding planner, a caterer, a cellist. We ordered a cake. My friends have organized a small shower.
Well meaning friends tell us we should find a charity to have guests donate to in our name. “That’s what mature couples do,” I’ve been told.
Miss Manners would be appalled by other suggestions. One of my friends told me we should ask for donations toward our Barcelona honeymoon in lieu of gifts.
We will just keep our lists. I really do want that baking set from Crate and Barrel.
Aside from my fiancé’s actual proposal, the image I will remember most is being on that dressing room platform, looking at myself in all my maturity but finding myself lovely nonetheless. I’m making a bold leap, getting married again. I’m giving it a go, and doing it in a way that seems final, permanent, full of hope. I’m dressing up toward that hope, wanting all the good things that all brides want, no matter what age. It’s my turn now. I can have a happy ending.
* * * * *
Announcement: The winners of Katharine Davis’s A Slender Thread are Ruthie and Sarah Pekkanen. Congratulations!
Please email diviningwand (at) gmail (dot) com with your mailing address and Kate will send out your book as soon as possible.






