To be a Princess

When Lady Diana Spencer married her Prince in 1981, I was glued to my television set. I made a scrapbook of all the photos and articles. My favorite ones were in LIFE magazine because they weren't posed. She looked happy and relaxed. I dreamed I was one of her flower girls complete with a wreath of flowers on my head. I sketched my future wedding dress, and it looked a lot like hers with puffed sleeves the size of full-grown sheep legs, a small sweetheart waist and a train that reached the church doors.

In honor of my love of Princess Diana, my best friend’s mom made me the most beautiful wedding dress for my Barbie. It had a row of pearls at the neck. It had gathered cuffs so they ruffled out. It had puffed sleeves and was made of white satin. Barbie was gorgeous and happy in all of her wedding ceremonies – and there were many.

Somewhere along the way, the shiny wore off of weddings for me. Princess Diana left Charles because of Camilla and a myriad of other reasons. My mom left my dad after twenty-five years because of Kristine and a plethura of other reasons. My friend got divorced two years after their rose-filled reception. The perfect gown and gorgeous flowers make a wedding, but those things do not make a marriage. It can still fall apart. I won't even go into the fact that the day Princess Diana was killed I was at a wedding.

All of this leads me to where I am now: planning my own wedding, but more importantly, learning to make a marriage that works.