The wedding reception is the couple's way of thanking guests for taking their time to bear witness to the most special occasion in their lives. It's a place for music, laughter, good food, wine and games. To me it's not supposed to be particularly impressive or grandiose. I would be happy to know that my guests were fed well, entertained, and one way or another shared the couple's joy. If you feel the need to impress the people at your party, they are probably strangers whom you are insecure of on their opinion about you.
I've read articles and books about what happens on the wedding day. According to them, most couples go through the night absently. Most are just thankful that months of planning are finally over, while some just don't know how to feel. I expected that state of mind on my wedding reception, but instead I was completely aware of what's happening, and even extra sensitive of each guest that I encountered. I chalk this up on dealing with each and every emotion that came over me all the months leading to the wedding day. I made sure to spend time and cultivate deep conversations with the people that matter in my life... the people who would be most affected by the change. Knowing their side gave me a balanced perspective of the event and gave it a realistic, logical quality.
B was the same, but not because he did some emotional preparations. He simply felt the need to be on top of things despite having our coordinator around. To be honest, the coordinator didn't give me confidence. It was B. Alongside my new husband, I oversaw the event with hawk eyes. I can openly say that the coordinators failed 70% at their job that night, but why dwell on the bad stuff?
Fortunately, there were people who enjoyed our wedding. Teddy Manuel didn't fail us with the reception styling. Paolo Corcolon who did the table centerpieces also did a good job. Days after the wedding, I would get a comment that the centerpiece flowers still showed no signs of wilting.
B's and my most important contribution to the reception was the background music. I'm proud to say that a lot of people thought the playlist was great, and someone even wanted to hire the orchestra we got.
I barely ate anything up on the stage. I don't even understand how B was able to do it! The spotlights were blinding; because of them I couldn't see the everyone clearly, which was a good thing. It meant, however, that everyone's eyes were on us, a thought I'd settle with a big gulp of wine whenever it occurred.
The program went as planned: AVP presentations, best man's toast and maid of honor speech (lovely, lovely speech by my maid of honor, Grace. I wonder how many people put their heads together to compose it. Hehe), then it was time to cut the cake.
The cake was a disappointment. I designed it to match our invitation and my gown. I especially reminded the cake maker that the florals need to be dainty, and the shade of gold, not orange. It was only upon close inspection that I saw the floral details made by a mould. The entire bottom layer was supposed to be edible, but we weren't told that it was only up to a certain point-- the lower half after the edible cake was made of styro. As a result, on our cake cutting ceremony, we got some styro on our plate. To make things worse, somebody else--a waiter--insensitively opened the champagne bottle, and we didn't finish the champagne during the cross-over toast because the coordinator was in a hurry to finish the program on time. It's probably the part of the evening that I want to repeat if I could.
And then B and I shared a first dance.
Suffice it to say we looked like fools, but heck even if we enrolled in a dance class for three months nothing would have prepared us for being in front of almost 500 guests.
I had my first dance with my father after that. Being a natural charmer with some dancing skills, my dad saved the performance. All my friends gushed over it after the wedding.
The singles' game was great. It was a fun twist to the classic children's game Trip to Jerusalem. All the forced participants had fun and I could tell that everyone else enjoyed watching it too... guys and girls sitting on strangers' laps. Haha!
The last part of the night where I was greeting the guests at the door, thanking them for coming, having pictures taken with them, etc. is a blur now. All I remember were the mixed feelings of relief, profound gratitude, being humbled, ecstasy, and then this great underbelly of heaviness.
When I wore that white dress, I was transformed into this woman nobody has seen before. Exalted into the role of bride, I shed my ordinary, girly appearance and physically represented my most feminine core, which included being my most radiant, most pure self. From a princess I became queen.
As the guests left one by one, I felt overcome by a sense of regret. I didn't want the night to end. I felt I would never be as beautiful as I was that day. Never again would I become a bride. Never again would I have my moment. I felt like a butterfly with the most magnificent wings, flitting from one guest to another charmingly. In the back of my head, I was thinking that tomorrow, I'd be just another bug on the other side of the garden, watching new cocoons become the next butterflies.
B wasn't at my side the whole time. He was somewhere in the room mingling as well. And then I finally saw him. He came to me and wrapped his arm around my waist. All of a sudden, I realized that I might never get to wear a pure, white dress again, but I knew he would treat me like the queen that I was that night for the rest of our lives.
Back in the hotel, we were to share a bed for the very first time as husband and wife. By that time, my confusion had been replaced by confidence. My transition to queen wouldn't desist when I take off the dress; its essence is not physical but internal. After that day and forevermore, I was not merely someone's daughter but my own person with my own career and my own family. I wasn't just B's supporter like I was as a girlfriend; I shared his authority and I was him and he myself. Together, we would navigate a road that was ours alone, and I couldn't help looking forward to tomorrow.
My husband helped me undo the buttons of the dress. With a last goodbye, I let it fall into a white heap on the floor.
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