I am a fraud; there is no real wedding.

At least that is what it feels like.

Since I last wrote, virtually everything has changed, and not for the good.

People tell you that weddings add so much to your life, but I disagree. Let’s be honest, weddings are really about loss—loss of name/identity, loss of time, loss of sleep, loss of sanity, and, (at least in my case!) loss of friends, money, and jobs. OK, well maybe the job loss wasn’t entirely the wedding’s fault.

I have left one job, and been let go from two since the last article. While not entirely blamable on The Wedding, as I now refer to IT, I do think the ultimate decision in those job losses was helped in that I now have a clearer vision of who and what I want to be, even when I don’t always like where I am currently. Job loss = financial loss, so plans were somewhat halted. Thankfully, I have ended up in a great job, making more money than I ever have, and am back in the real estate world again, no less. So, now, tentatively, they are back on, but very much altered.

Let’s take the losses one by one, shall we?

Loss of name/identity

I have met women who have written their fiancé’s name as their own, practicing their new signature. I have never done that. Maybe it is the culture clash that seems to be evident in the two names, but I am having a real struggle with the fact that I am expected to give up the great name I have had for almost 30 years. 

There is no doubt whatsoever in R.’s mind (remember him? The fiancé?) that I would take his name, which I probably will, in an effort not to complicate matters. But, I go on record here as saying that I was born a Castillo, will die a Castillo, and will look on the new name as a comfortable sweatshirt that I just wear a lot. I will not get philosophical, but I think that a name plays a large part in identity, and that we are simply fooling ourselves if we think otherwise. While this is often a positive for some women, I am struggling with the concept that within 20 minutes I will be transformed, legally, from a Latina woman to one of Scotch-Irish descent. Confusing, and certainly bizarre.

Loss of time

News flash, right?! I do not claim to be planning a wedding to rival J-Lo, but it seems like everything takes an inordinate amount of time. Research, research, research is the name of the game. Flights, hotel rates, pet policies, car rental rates, etc. threaten to consume my life. I am an organized person by nature, and (really) have always harbored ambitions of being a party planner, but now I know why they get paid the big bucks. They work for the money, honey! If I were wealthy, I would not splurge on the latest Marc Jacobs bag; I’d hire the premier wedding planner. If only…

Loss of sleep

I’ll be kind and lump that with loss of time; but really, who goes to bed dreaming of schedules? Either a bride or a traffic controller, I’m sure!

Loss of sanity

I’ll admit there wasn’t a whole lot to lose but man oh man! While the Nicky Hilton idea of eloping has never really appealed to me, I can see her point (and remember, she has money!). While watching The Travel Channel, I am now paying strict attention to these hotel bridal packages. 

It is not just the cost of everything that makes one lose their mind, it is the sheer idea of thousands of dollars being spent to make a moment in our life special. I am not very political, but I can sympathize with the gay community’s desire to legalize their marriages. I really do think that society creates this Marriage Monster, and then feeds it, and later feeds it to the culture as a whole. 

It is amazing how much more legitimate a committed relationship is once one has donned fancy clothing and fed a few dozen friends. I read a quote by Melissa Etheridge, when referring to her recent nuptials, said something to the effect of "It feels like a wedding, it sure cost like a wedding!"

Well, now we move onto things that I lost out on because of The Wedding.