Dear soon-to-be-married friend*,
I’m so excited for your upcoming marriage! I’m so glad that
you’ve picked out just the right color scheme for your flowers, table settings,
bridesmaid dresses, invitations and decorations. It’s so wonderful that you
booked the ideal venue, that your honeymoon is on a warm tropical island, that your
photographer is giving you a discount on the deluxe package…I can remember when
you and your significant other first started going out and it seems like it was
just yesterday you were telling me you’d finally decided to make it Facebook
official. It’s amazing how things work out, right?
I’m seriously so thrilled, so excited, so wonderfully
pleased….
OK, I’m sorry, but I need to be real for a moment. Because
you’re such a good friend and I can’t keep up this mask of joy anymore.
While you are wedding planning and dreaming of your new life
as a couple, I’m quietly grieving the loss of a friendship. Not because I don’t
think we won’t be friends in the future, but because the very nature of our
friendship is about to change dramatically. Your friendship, for better or
worse, now comes with strings attached. Of course I want you to take time to
grow as a couple, to settle into your marriage, to readjust to life together,
but at the same time, I’m selfishly wishing that I didn’t have to share you,
that I could follow you into “couplehood” just so we could stay on the same
level, lifestage and marital status.
The truth is that while you are going from single to
married, I am going from your friend to your “single” friend. And when you’re
in a couple, that’s a hard relationship to maintain. It doesn’t mean it can’t
be done, but it’s going to take awhile to figure it out and it will never be
quite the same.
So, if I don’t jump for joy at every little wedding bell, it’s
because I’m dealing with the fact that you’re marrying your best friend which
means I am not, nor ever will be again, your best friend. I’m left behind
because of good things; because you’re in love, because you’ve found the one,
because you’re ready to take the plunge…the reality is that your life is moving
forward rapidly, but I feel like mine as I knew it, has suddenly ended.
And if I really think about it, I’m jealous. I’m jealous of
your soon-to-be-spouse because they get to have you and I’m jealous of you
because you may not know what your future holds but you know who you’re going
to be WITH. ‘Til death do you part.
So, while the wedding for you will be a celebration of your
love and commitment. For me, it will be a reminder of what I am losing, of what
I don’t have and what I will not have once the “I do”s are done and the cake is
cut.
It doesn’t matter that I’ve had years to prepare for this
reality, it still hurts. It still feels like I’m missing out, I’m losing, I’m
somehow suddenly less…
I really really want to be happy for you, but I don’t want
to lie to you, my soon-to-be-married friend. I am actually really, really devastatingly
sad. I feel abandoned, alone and terribly empty when I look at the future. So,
if my smile is a little forced, if my laughter is a little faked, if my
happiness is just a façade, that’s because I don’t want you to know just how
sad I am. I don’t want to ruin your perfect day, the beginning of your new
life. I’m struggling to let you go, even though I know it’s healthy for you to
move on. I treasure our friendship and all that it has taught me.
I guess what I’m saying is, life is a rollercoaster
sometimes. You and I used to be in the same carriage riding the highs and lows
together. But somewhere along the ride, you got out and got into someone else’s
carriage. And now you and that person are at the peak of the ride, but my
carriage is still down in the valley. We’re still on the same ride, still in
each others’ lives, but I’m in a different carriage, a different view and from
where I’m sitting, you look impossibly far away and happy, with your hands in
the air, grinning from ear to ear. I’m hoping I get to where you are at some
point, but right now the ride is not so fun. It’s bumpy and noisy and there’s
no one to scream next to.
Please, bear with me while I work on letting you go, on
giving you up, on letting our friendship evolve and change to include your
other half and your new marriage. Please invite me to be a part of your life
and just excuse me if I don’t know quite what to do or say. Please still ask me
hard questions, share funny jokes, give me advice, challenge me to be open and
honest, send me a text, ask me for dinner…be my friend. I know it won’t be
exactly the same. I know your spouse will be involved. But give me a chance to
love them too, give me a chance to see them the way you do, as someone incredibly
special and wonderful.
After all, they must be pretty freaking amazing because you
chose them and at some point you also chose me. I cannot doubt your impeccable
taste! I’m sorry for the times my sadness has come across as disapproval or
unsupportive. I’m still dealing with the fact that I’m selfish, that I need to
mature enough to think of what is good for you and not just good for me. And I
need to do some of that maturing now without you. L
If you’ve made it this far, my soon-to-be-married friend, I
thank you for your time and patience. Thank you for listening. Thanks for
allowing me to be me with you even when it’s messy and complicated.
I want to wish you a very blessed wedding day and a wonderful
marriage.
Sincerely,
Your friend
(if you’ll still have
me)
*Disclaimer: This letter is not directed at any specific person, but rather is a result of some raw and real emotions.
