In The Conscious Bride, Sheryl Paul writes incredibly eloquently about how transitions – like weddings – have three stages: separation, in limbo, and rebirth.
Separation is a process of letting go. We detach from the life we had before. We grieve for what’s lost, and we make space for what’s to come.
Limbo might be the most uncomfortable stage: we’re neither who we used to be, nor who we will become. This is the bulk of the engagement period. You’re no longer fully single, but not yet married. Sometimes people feel numb, disoriented, or like things are out of their control.
Rebirth, also called incorporation, has to do with coming into a new identity, a new way of being. Once you actually get married, you take time to fold this new part of your life into your larger sense of self. You’re adding something new to the mix of who you are, and coming out with a new sense of identity and purpose. Over time, the grey fog of liminality clarifies into a new color that didn’t exist before.
One reason weddings are so emotionally fraught is that the wedding industry (and often our family and friends) tell us that we should only be happy while we’re planning a wedding. We aren’t given any space to reflect on what was, to grieve for our single selves, to acknowledge that even though this is a change we are excited about it, things won’t be the same.
It’s really confusing: we won’t be the same people we were before. A lot will be better, but some things won’t be as they were. You won’t be around 24/7 for your girlfriends anymore. You may want to check in with your significant other before you grab a beer after work. And while you may want to check in with that other person, there’s a loss of the self who didn’t have this on their mind before this commitment. That’s a meaningful change.
It’s okay to feel sad, confused, and alone during the times when we’re engaged but not yet married. We are so primed to skip over the discomfort of grief, loss, letting go of what was and what has been. When we don’t acknowledge this process of separation, we put those feelings into other things – often, planning, planning, planning. And as stressful as planning is, it’s concrete. You can come to a final decision about the song for your first dance and check it off to your to-do list. There’s no check-off list for grieving your single self, the person you were, and the unknown of what you’re entering into. There’s no checklist for the confusion of not knowing exactly what the future holds.
I’m here to encourage you to make space for all these parts of experience, even when it’s hard.