Marry, marry, quite contrary


I got engaged on Christmas Day and since that time I’ve purchased exactly one bridal magazine and made it through the first 15 pages of it (all ads). I took my nieces to look at bridesmaid dresses but it was really just an excuse to spend time with my favorite girls.

I sent my closest friends a text message and a goofy photo where I’m showing off the ring, but they have yet to receive a box of butterflies requesting their presence at my nuptials. No save-the-dates have been ordered; no venue has been booked.

You see, I’ve been married before. We divorcees don’t really talk about that stuff too much. It’s embarrassing and it makes other people uncomfortable. No one likes to be vulnerable and admit defeat or failure or that they just weren’t very good at being married.

Well, truth be told, I wasn’t very good at being married.

When I got married the previous time, I really, desperately wanted the wedding. I wanted all my friends and relatives to be there. I wanted people to tell me I was beautiful. I wanted to have the best party with great food and drinks and dancing. I had to have calla lilies and a makeup artist and the best DJ in town.

I can’t even tell you how much I spent but it wasn’t cheap. And now I have a lot of gorgeous photos that I can’t hang on the wall and a passport and a credit card bearing a last name that no longer belongs to me.

So cut to a decade later after my marriage, divorce and an amicable custody battle in which I lost ownership of an energetic Catahoula mix named Chewbacca.

I have a wonderful, loving relationship with a precious Christian man who happens to have a son who turned 13 on St. Patrick’s Day. So add that to my special brand of crazy. Blayne is awesome, his family is awesome and I have no doubt that I want to spend the rest of my life with him.

But you have to triage the priorities. We’ve got other people’s weddings, vacations and events on the calendar. We don’t have a huge bankroll to cover this wedding. I’d like to lose those last 10 or 65 pounds. We need a set of Crate & Barrel dishes like we need a hole in the head. I want to hyperventilate every time some sponsored David’s Bridal ad pops up on my Facebook feed.

It’s different when you’re 40 years old. You don’t have lingerie showers and bachelorette parties in Cabo – because you don’t want that anymore. I give zero craps about calla lilies. I honestly think it would be cool to have a Chick-fil-A nugget tray after we say our vows.

This time I don’t want a wedding. I want a marriage.

April Towery is the managing editor of The Sealy News. She can be reached at 979-885-3562 or via email at


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