A close friend of mine is in the process of planning her second wedding. It's an exciting time for the couple and, even as an onlooker, I've gotten caught up in the elation of their positive life change. They have already begun combining lives, bank accounts and furniture. I'm thrilled for her as the two of them are overjoyed to have found one another and eager to get started on their journey as a couple.
But, unlike her first engagement experience over twenty-five years ago, the current excitement isn't so much overtaken by invitations, the caterer or the bachelorette party. Now, she is laser focused on the actual depth as to what's taking place -- something more tangible and understood. She is fixated on the upcoming marriage, rather than the wedding. The concept of marriage rings differently to her now than it did years before. With the experience that comes with this not being her first rodeo, there is a definite distinction between this particular trip down the aisle and her first one.
Most of my friends, like me, are in their forties. There have been a few who have divorced and gone on to remarry. What has struck me is how very different the emotional spectrum is for second weddings when compared to the first. There are aspects and emotions tied in to a second wedding that do not exist during the first one. Of course, the joy, the anticipation, the love -- each is present both times. The thrill that a couple has upon embarking on a shared new life encompasses the upcoming event. I've become enlightened as I've observed other friends' second marriages come to fruition. What comes with second marriage territory is also a safe reluctance and hesitance, stemming from the unspoken fear of another failed marriage. A smart preponderance that wasn't as pronounced during the first engagement.
But now, with my friend's upcoming big day, I can't help but notice the biggest difference between this one and her first one: she is now doing this as a full-fledged grown-up -- with a honed adult outlook and perception. At her first wedding she was in her early twenties and just beginning her adult years. Now, a generation later, she's not far from retirement. Her older daughter is about the same age she was when she was a first-time bride. Even friends' and family's expectations of the bride and groom's new life, when compared to the first time, are in a different package. And I think that's exactly how it should be.
Because she is not the same person.
She is now armed with invaluable wisdom gained from age and her first marriage. And, though she did not request it, she has an awareness she gets to bring with her from her first marriage into her new one.
Some may refer to it as baggage. I prefer to see it as education.
Her more than two decades' worth of life experience is a huge benefit she didn't get to take into marriage #1. She has expressed to me how her vantage point of life -- and marriage -- has sharpened over so many years. With her maturity and knowledge taken from decades of married life, she is able to see -- much more clearly this time around -- the enormity of planning a committed life together. She now knows what's at stake. Because of this, she has said she feels more trepidation than the first time. Her nerves overtake her on some days because, in her own words, the first time she took her vows she was in "doe-eyed, ignorant bliss". Regardless, she is not without delight and is certainly ecstatic about what is to come. This veteran of marriage is going in wiser, informed and well-seasoned. She's aware of the necessity of communication in a healthy union and the existence of peaks and valleys. Marriage is big. It's hard work and, at times, that fact doesn't absorb until it's too late. Sadly, sometimes it takes a broken marriage for that specific actuality to be realized.
Back in 1993, when I was planning my own wedding and overly consumed with details, my mom would occasionally remind me, "A wedding does not a marriage make." A wedding -- a culmination of decisions encompassing the flowers and the band, or even the gifts for the bridesmaids -- does not dictate the quality of what's to play out: the marriage. Some of this insight comes with sophistication of years accrued. A mindset not yet fully baked at a young age.
Within my group of friends, we all got married a few years out of college. We were in our twenties, pursuing our careers in their infancies, and, not only did none of us have any kids yet, we didn't have much of anything else either. Owning a home wasn't in the near future; renting was our only viable option. None of us had much, if anything, in terms of assets. We were post-college but still far from the independence of established adults. Within our marriages, the only foundation we had to build on as a couple was our mutual love for one another and budding careers. We were starting from scratch together. It was an adventure and what most of us viewed as the start of "real" adulthood. I now see this as a lovely bonding situation implicit in young, first marriages. When two people marry young, are just starting out, and their lives have barely taken off, the foundation is built together.
The second time around is often in strong contrast to that -- the two separate foundations have already solidified. Each person must, hopefully as seamlessly as possible, find a way to assimilate into the other's already-rooted life. There can be challenges not found in first marriages- stepchildren, ex-spouses and financial issues with which to be dealt. Logistics abound.
In most first marriages -- when the wedding takes place relatively young -- there are typically a multitude of "firsts" shared with one's spouse: first job, first home and shared children.
The firsts in a second marriage are on a level quite different than the firsts in original marriages, but they exist nonetheless. And that's been part of the beauty of watching my friend planning her life with her fiancé. Although they both have long-established careers, own their respective homes and have children -- those firsts have taken already taken place years prior -- the two of them have a whole world of firsts to be discovered together. And they are excitedly planning many new experiences and looking forward to a future by their new partner's side -- a definite first.
I'm extremely happy for her. A second marriage might be seen by some as bittersweet given the obvious fact that the first one didn't work out. No one goes into a marriage expecting to see its end. As the ideal would be for every marriage to thrive and stay intact, sometimes it's just not possible. My friend has taken the unforeseen path of Plan B and, like many other second marriages, has an added bonus: she will get to take advantage of the lessons of previous experience, reap the benefits of it and soak up the rewards in her new, joyous, adult life.