Weddings freak me out, on a number of levels. In a society that’s become increasingly permissive for gender expression, they’re a throwback to the strictly enforced gender roles. The men with long hair must cut or contain it and wear suits and the punk women must wear something “feminine” – a dress or nice blouse and skirt. Then there is the sexism inherent in the term “man and wife” (instead of “husband and wife”) and of course the occasional sexist remark (men are like children) during toasts which everyone laughs at because we all believe in those gender stereotypes.
I’ve managed to build myself a little alterna-world where a little androgyne like me doesn’t often get placed in these uncomfortable situations. Of course, there’s always the “which bathroom to use” question when I’m out and the bathrooms are gender-specific, but otherwise, I’ve built a friend and location-base that doesn’t push me to be a “man”. It’s a bit of a shock to then be confronted with stark tradition where I don’t seem to have a place. As you may have surmised, I recently attended a friend’s wedding and though I was very happy for the couple (they both wept during the ceremony – it was sweet), it brought up a myriad of issues for me.
Weddings also reinforce one of my other least favorite cultural impositions – you must couple up. Almost everyone at any wedding is there with a significant other or “date”. Maybe there aren’t any other single people or they just abstain from attending marriages, but they seem to be more scarce there than out in the world. I definitely think weddings should celebrate the bond formed by the couple getting married, but it sometimes feels like they’re just celebrating a ritual that we’re all supposed to go through (for instance, the throwing of the bouquet or the lyrics of most of the songs) and the single people are once again the pariahs – the sick folk who need the eventual healing of a marriage to be “complete.”
This is mostly just me, but tradition has always tried to twist me into something I’m very uncomfortable with, so going to the church, being told to sit, stand, raise glasses, drink, smile, cheer, dance, eat brings me back to a repressive childhood when I’d be forced to attend masses at least once per week and was always told what to do. Having everyone do exactly the same things at the same time in a church or fancy ballroom (and the bridesmaids and groomsmen dressed identically) strikes me as mass-produced and soulless, vaguely military, just a march through the necessary rituals. Luckily, the recent wedding had some real personal parts (especially the weeping through the vows and the toasts) to make it feel more real than most weddings do.
Worst of all, despite goodwill and happiness for the ecstatic couple, weddings feel like saying goodbye. For me, friends are like family, except, unlike family, they seem to disappear when they get married because they’re not bound to you by blood. They’re now on a different plane and everyone knows the singles and the marrieds don’t mix. Of course, I hope this time will be an exception, but building a marriage, a home, a family is time-consuming work and it’s not terribly surprising if the newlywed couple becomes solipsistic and the old friends (especially the unlikely-to-be-marrieds) drop off the radar.
So yes, I could weep – for the oppressive traditions that form the core of our society, for the beauty and happiness that my beloved friend has found, and for the loss inherent for me personally as my role in my friend’s life gets radically downshifted. Cheers .
