wait for it

Four weeks ago I signed the contract for my dress.

Not just any dress, the dress.  My wedding dress.  My once-in-a-lifetime huge white sparkly princess wedding dress.  (I’d post a photo but I have to keep it secret from you-know-who ;). ) 

Through the years, I have been wedding dress shopping with many of my friends; I have watched them try on these uniquely large white gowns; I have witnessed each find the one that eventually and finally made them gush and say, “WOW!  This is it.” 

But until July 2008, it had never been me walking out of the oversized dressing rooms, standing on the raised platforms, twirling in the mirror.  And so—I admit—it was a bit surreal, sort of an out-of-body experience.  I heard myself uttering comments that my friends had uttered, comments that never made so much sense before.

“How do you know?  How are you supposed to choose?”

“It’s a beautiful dress, [insert ‘but…’]”

“Yes, it’s flattering…but all wedding dresses are made to be flattering…”

The comments which now make sense are seemingly nonsensically uttered from women who look more stunningly beautiful than they’ve ever looked in the history of their lives…and yet they’re standing there entirely unconvinced.  “How can this be?” I have wondered for years.  “How can you not see how incredible you look?!”

But now I know why:  These are women who are waiting for the “WOW!”—the dress that, upon the very first glimpse in the mirror, proclaims, “I AM YOUR WEDDING DRESS!”

Perhaps it is a hope bred in young girls read too many fairy tales, I don’t know.  But I do know that I too went into the wedding-dress-shopping experience with the same expectation that one dress would stand out above them all. 

Some dress choices were easy to axe:  bad for my coloring, not the most flattering cut, or way over budget.  But many of the dresses really were very pretty.  They just weren’t…well, “WOW!” 

And so after what must have been—oh, gosh!—thirty “beautiful, but…” dresses, I confess I began to feel discouraged.  As the kind saleslady zipped me up for the thirty-first-or-so time, I thought, “Maybe it’s not going to happen.  Maybe there won’t be one that stands out above the rest.  Maybe I will just have to pick from the ones that I’ve already tried on.”

But then…it happened.

I walked out of the oversized dressing room, caught a glimpse of my reflection, the discouragement instantaneously melting away as I heard myself say, “WOW!”  My shopping companions gasped, the saleslady cheered, other shoppers applauded, the heavens parted, the light of God descended upon me, and angels began singing the Hallelujah chorus.

And I smiled, sighed happily, and thought, “There you are at last!”

Even still, as I sat in the shop again a week later, poised to sign the contract committing me to the dress, I needed some encouragement.  The kind saleslady gave the best pep talk she could muster, and I joked, “Well, it took me 30 years to commit to a man…one week for a dress is sudden in comparison.”

And that was when—as songwriter David Wilcox says—the metaphor jumped me.  For those of us perhaps read too many fairy tales as young girls, it is not just the “WOW!” dress that we are looking out for; it is also the “WOW!” man that we hope and pray to find.

And after 30 (albeit full) years of life, I confess I was beginning to feel a bit discouraged.  “Maybe it’s not going to happen,” I thought. “Maybe other people have been right all this time and my expectations are too high.  Maybe there won’t be one man who stands out above the rest…”

And then my mind would reel through the men I’ve known in the past.  Now some were obviously not at all the one for me, and some were eliminated as possibilities because of their own lack of interest or choice not to pursue, which frankly I could do little about.  But there were plenty that I’d been attracted to, that had many good qualities, that—for some reason or another—I chose not to let become more than a friend.  Perhaps I’d been too harsh, I’d think, perhaps I should’ve given them more of a chance…

But then, amidst all my wondering and potential regret…it happened.  I met him.  The man who—with his wit and wisdom and passion and conviction—made me say, “WOW!”

And he continues to make me say, “WOW!”  The more I get to know him, the more I am utterly amazed at how much he is everything I ever wanted—much of which I didn’t even realize until I saw it in him.  We both marvel at how well-matched we are, at how our life paths and passions and dreams align.  And despite what often seemed like a very long time, we are both so glad that we waited, that we held out for the “WOW!”

There were a couple other dresses I really did honestly like.  I certainly could’ve been a satisfied bride in either one of them.  And I’m sure that other men would’ve made fine husbands.  There are many good, solid, respectable men, and perhaps we would’ve had enough in common to get along for a lifetime.

But as the kind saleslady said, “If you could have your very favorite, why would you ever choose your second favorite?”

And so I signed the contract…and went home smiling all over.