A Mother’s Wedding Dress
When I was a little girl, I loved dressing up in my mother’s wedding dress. She saved her dress in the closet in hopes that one day one of her daughters will wear it on their special day. It was an elegant and simple dress just like my mother, thus I fell in love with pretending to be her just for a moment or two when I would wear it.
This was my upbringing, believing that one day I will wear a beautiful white dress while standing next to the man I love. Surrounded by only loved ones, I envisioned watching my mother cry out of joy while feeling a sense of peace. I find myself thinking a lot about my childhood recently; perhaps with every year that I age, the further away I am from the woman I had always dreamt to be.
The older I get, the more satisfied I feel with whom I am. I have worked very hard to become her, but I fear that I have become too strong. Too strong, too prideful, and too arrogant to face the truth, the truth being that I miss who I was before the world taught me its ways.
The concept of family and commitment is something that is very cultural for me. A few months ago, I had a photo shoot where I dressed up as a bride. Once again, I found myself dancing in a beautiful white gown, only this time, I was 28 years of age and brokenhearted. As the photographer asked me to smile as big as I could, I felt like a big fake. Faking to the world that I have found what I have been searching for my entire life–true commitment.
As I took that dress off, I began to cry, not because I felt disappointed, but because I miss the innocence of my childhood. Deep down inside, I know that I will be a wife to an amazing man one day, so I do not worry about being left alone, but I worry that when I finally say my I dos, it will not feel the same as I have envisioned it to feel.
It was in that darkened moment when I felt that little girl who left me some time ago, coming back to me with open arms. As I felt her warmth, I began to hold myself while promising to never doubt my ability to love. Promising that no matter what, I would never let my childish dreams escape my mind again. Too many of us have given up on love, and I refuse to be the one who gives up on something so pure.
The night that little girl decided to come back to me, I ran straight into my mother’s arms. Like a child, I begged her to hold me close and keep me away from harm’s way. She kissed my hands and promised to love me for eternity and that little girl in me believed in light again.
I pray that every little girl puts on her mother’s wedding dress in hopes to feel loved one day. Let her dance the night away in laughter and treasure that memory for a lifetime like I once did. When the world turns dark and she forgets to love with age, let that memory bring her light and let that light guide her to a better tomorrow. I hope that memory becomes a reminder to never cheat the world and always believe in the good, so when she finally finds the person of her dreams, she knows the Universe never forgot her innocence.