Since I was a small child I dreamed about my perfect wedding day – the dress, the aisle, the attendants, the centerpieces, the way the events would unfold one by one until the night ended and I’d have memories of the greatest moments of my life. I’ve grown into an adult who demands perfection every day – from myself, from my life – and so to go into a wedding with such high standards was in a way setting myself up to be disappointed.

A wedding is not unlike a choreographed dance where each person must do his steps in order to keep the whole thing moving smoothly: the baker, the caterers, the venue staff, the DJ, the photographer, the videographer, everyone. They all work together and play small parts in something big. Like that Honda commercial where one object rolls into another, which triggers another, which sets off something else, and the commercial continues with each part moving and keeping the energy moving smoothly in one direction. If one of those things was out of place, it would have sort of fallen apart. So the stress of planning a wedding falls onto the shoulders of all those little pieces, the cogs in the machine that have so much of my childhood dreams riding on them.

There were things I would change. If I were to redo my wedding day knowing what I know now, there are things I’d do differently. There were things that upset me. There were reasons I cried when I saw my photos. Sobbed. Because there weren’t enough poses, there were things that seemed to be off, or missing, or out of place. Because when I walked down the aisle, the first thing to cross my mind was, “Why are those two vases so close together?!” And what a damper that put on my perfect, perfect day.

Today marks the one-month anniversary of my wedding. And the more I look at the photos, the more I remember the fun I had that night, the more I realize that I did get the wedding I’ve always dreamed of. It was a day that was overflowing with joy, and a room full of people gathered there for Patrick and me and they danced their fucking asses off. And I couldn’t have dreamed of having more fun than that.

So even though my bridesmaids were scrambling to finish setting up just moments before the wedding, and even though I spent a small part of my reception rearranging furniture (that is, the furniture that actually made it there!), It was perfect because I got to marry Patrick. It was the best day of my life because I got to become his wife. Because when we got to Costa Rica and someone asked if I was traveling with my family, I said, “With my husband.” And no sagging photo booth backdrop could take away the overwhelming rush it gave me to finally call him that.

So here’s to knowing how to recognize a perfect day for what it is. And to be able to appreciate the memories that will forever remain among my fondest. Here’s to becoming Mrs. Wilkes-Krier. Here’s to dreams coming true.

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