Yesterday, I teared up over a iPhone photo of my high school best friend looking stunning in a potential wedding gown. It was captioned, â€œThis could be the one!â€ My watery response startled me just as much as seeing a childhood friend looking bridal.
Two days ago, I felt a genuine jolt of elation upon seeing a different, dear friendâ€™s engagement ring. I stammered to my mom on the phone, â€œIâ€™ve known her since I was four and now sheâ€™s getting married!â€
If Iâ€™d been confronted with wedding artifacts even six months ago, I would have eeked out my best ecstatic voice and plastered on a fake smile. Meanwhile my insides would have balked and squirmed. The feeling of being trapped in domesticity would have spread like a rash.
Now the only unpleasant feeling that emerges after getting engagement party invitations and the word â€œfiancÃ©â€ is the lingering aftertaste of my anxiety. In the love arena, Iâ€™m far behind two girls I grew up with.