My First Royal Wedding (and What I’ve Learned Since Then)

 

Today I’d like to give you a glimpse into my teenage self. As silly as all this seems to me now, at the time I was so earnest about it all. Still, if you want to laugh, go ahead.

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I was 16. I’d never had a boyfriend. I had a fairy tale vision of what romance and marriage would be like. I would be spotted by someone rich, handsome, and famous. He would see what was hidden in me. He would sweep me off my feet. We would live happily every after. I hoped that some day my Prince Charming would find me.

She was 19—living proof that fairytales could come true. She was marrying a real-life prince, which would turn her into a princess. They even had a cute nickname as a couple: Chuck and Di.

As their wedding approached, I was so excited! I read every news article I could get my hands on, memorizing every detail. At the bottom of one newspaper article, I spotted an address where people could send wedding gifts.

I couldn’t turn down the chance to be part of this grand royal event, but what could I send that they couldn’t get for themselves? A-ha! I thought. I will send them something that doesn’t even exist yet.

I wrote them a poem.

It wasn’t just any poem, either. It was epic. It was seven pages long, in my best handwriting, on air mail stationery.

I wrote about how Chuck and Di were sure to model romance, love, and commitment for all the world to see. I wanted to seem spiritual, too, so I mentioned Adam and Eve in several places. The poem rhymed. A lot. For seven handwritten pages. (Good grief. What on earth was I thinking?)

Unbeknownst to my family, I sent it off. I didn’t even keep a copy, because I believed my epic poem was so good that the recipients would insist on publishing it. I would be famous. I would at least get a thank-you note on royal stationery, right?

On the day of the wedding, I watched it on a small black and white television with an iffy signal at the Northwoods cabin of family friends, where we were vacationing. When Diana slipped up and called her groom Phillip Charles Arthur George rather than Charles Phillip Arthur George, I was charmed to think of how even the people in fairy tales were only human.

Sadly, and to my great shock, none of my expectations came to pass. My poem was never published. I didn’t become famous. I didn’t receive a thank-you note at all, much less on royal stationery.

And we all know how the marriage turned out.

When they divorced, I was married with three small children of my own. I knew well that life is not a fairy tale—yet I cried to see the fairy tale of my youth come crashing down.

I was heart-broken when Diana died. I got up early to watch her funeral. As soon as I saw her sons, I started crying and didn’t stop until after the funeral was over.

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The woman I am now is a far cry from the daydreaming teenager girl who poured her fairy tale vision into a seven-page poem about love and romance.

No longer am I the tired-out mama of littles who still clung to the idea that everything could be perfect, and that romance had to look a certain way.

I’ve learned a few things since my first royal wedding.

1. When we expect fairy tales, we’re bound to be disappointed.

For many years, I believed that marriage was about love and romance, and that those things had to be expressed in a particular way. It was impossible for my husband to do all the things I imagined he should do (not that he had a chance, as I’d never bothered to communicate my expectations). I have learned that it is much better to expect and enjoy effort and growth than to than hold out for an unattainable standard. When I watch Big Guy struggle to do something because he knows it matters to me, it touches my heart far more than I could have imagined when I was young. That is real romance, my friends.

2. God should play a key role in your marriage. He shouldn’t be an afterthought.

I remember very little of the poem I wrote—but I do remember that I mentioned God, Adam, and Eve only because I wanted the recipients to think I was spiritual and deep. I said nothing about what God really wanted to see in marriages.  It was a problem in my poem and an even bigger problem in my marriage. When I finally began to learn God’s design for marriage, I realized that was where I should have started—with God’s truth, not with my fairy tale.

3. It isn’t all about me.

My wedding gift to Charles and Diana was about me wanting to be part of a major event and become famous. I felt their divorce deeply, taking it personally even though I knew that it had absolutely nothing to do with me. For a brief moment, I even wondered, What if I’d written a better poem? Would that have made a difference? It’s a good thing I can laugh at myself. What was I thinking?

For years, my marriage suffered because I thought only about my feelings and what it was like to be me. I thought nothing about my husband’s feelings or what it was like to be him, married to me. When I began to truly have compassion for him, our marriage began to turn around. Compassion showed me that many of my husband’s actions reflected his own struggles more than they said anything about me.

Philippians 2:3-4 tells us,

Do nothing from selfishness or empty conceit, but with humility of mind regard one another as more important than yourselves; do not merely look out for your own personal interests, but also for the interests of others. (NASB)

When I stopped looking out only for myself, my marriage improved.

4. When we truly invest in something, we care more about the outcome.

Because I had invested in the wedding of Charles and Diana (reading, writing the poem and copying it nicely, and watching the ceremony), I cared about how their marriage turned out. I had a warm place in my heart for them, wanting the best. Although it was silly how upset I was when their marriage ended, I know that part of the reason I cared so much was that I felt I had invested something in it.

As I have worked on my marriage over the past eight or so years, I have invested a lot—time, energy, prayer, tears, and lots of effort. My marriage matters far more to me now than it did when I began this journey—and that makes me work harder when we hit a rough patch. I’ve invested in my marriage, and I care about its health.

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Tomorrow morning, I will get up early to watch the younger son of Charles and Diana marry, just as I did when his brother got married. I will smile again at the memory of sending my wedding present to his parents all those years ago.

I’ll have tea and scones, and I may even make myself a little fascinator with items from the dollar store. And then, after the wedding, I’ll get back to my real life and my very real marriage—which has turned out to be way better than that fairy tale I imagined so many years ago. Big Guy is no Prince Charming, and it turns out that real life with him is exactly what I wanted.

Image credit | HoliHo at pixabay.com