Holy Oh My Goodness. In 23 days, I am going to be a Mrs. That is crazy. You know, I really thought I would be more anxious than I am. Things are coming together; even the maddening little things that drive me crazy. By Monday I should have a slew of DIY stuff to post, including my centerpieces, which are coming along better than I had hoped and my display board for my escort cards. Both projects are super easy, super cheap and don’t require a lot of that fine detail work that can be hard when you have a disability. We are also making our own table numbers and the favors but those won’t be done for a bit yet.
Yesterday, I went to do my hair trial, originally my sister was going to do my hair, but my stepmom, a hairstylist, was nervous about it and recommended someone at her salon. I checked with my sister, to make sure she didn’t think it was personal and made the appointment. My Stepmom was probably right; Angela doing my hair probably would have been stressful for both of us.
Sue was actually the one to do my trial, which saved me some money, but her co-worker, Luanne was there to see it. My stepmom assured me that Luanne was way better at up do’s than she was and since my hair always looks amazing with Sue does it, I am confident that my hair is going to look awesome.
I wanted a side ponytail with curls. This is what Sue came up with (keep in mind it was done in half the time it will probably take the day off and I took this picture several hours after having it done):
It’s a stupid picture of me I know, stop laughing. I think it will look really nice. Now that I have seen the hair, the makeup and the dress I can finally really imagine what I am going to look like the day of. I know it’s silly but I really am scared I won’t live up to the expectation of this beautiful, graceful bride; most of which I hate to admit has to do with my disability. When I close my eyes, and think about my wedding day I don’t picture myself with a disability. In my minds eye I walk up that aisle with the grace of a runway modal. I am standing up straight. Tom and I are posing romantically for pictures, and he is twirling me in my dress on the dance floor. But that bride only exists in my head. I know on the real day I will have my crutches, my gait will be stiff, and my knees will bend making me look short and making my dress too long. We will struggle to find poses that don’t look awkward and will barely move during our first dance. And even though people will tell me I am beautiful, I’ll wonder if I am just beautiful or “beautiful in spite of”
