Miss B

I have a bit of an issue with marriage, I guess. I feel upset and angry when I think about where it came from and how women are treated and thought of, traditionally, in terms of weddings. Handed over from one man to another. But it's not just that, it's the modern traditions as well: white dresses, flowers, chair covers, the groom doing a speech but not the bride, not arriving together, spending twenty grand on the damn thing and the fact that men are still expected to spend thousands on a diamond but not vice versa.
Which is why our wedding had no resemblance to anything traditional whatsoever. We drove to the venue in our own car, no bridesmaids (I don't need accessories, than you very much), no flowers, no white dress, nothing fucking borrowed and nothing blue, no diamonds, no speeches and no music. And absolutely no hen night! Thank goodness. Why? Because we are two adults who want to be together forever. Nothing more. We are not a prince and a princess from a fairytale, hence why I didn't dress up as one, nor did I act like one.
It is beyond me how a grown up woman, an independent woman, choose to dress in white, be given away by her dad and sit back IN SILENCE as her DAD, HUSBAND and his MALE FRIEND talk and laugh about you. Speak up, woman! Don't sit there in silence. Break tradition. Argh, it makes me angry.
Originally, I wanted no one at my wedding. Just us two and whoever does the marrying. But witnesses are required so we invited three people. That was it and that was enough. Afterwards we had cupcakes and bubbly drinks and then, guess what, we fell asleep in front of the telly with our cups of tea. And I wouldn't have wanted it any other way.
The name is another thing that bothers me. I did consider for a little while to change my name. Well, to add his to my own. Two surnames. But for a number of reasons I decided against it. 1. The bureaucrats of Sweden only allow one surname. 2. Some people (not my friends, they know me better) started calling me Mrs T before we even got married (Mr T wasn't as good at keeping quiet as I was) and it pissed me off so much that people assumed that I would just give up my name and take a man's name. My name is mine, it's my identity, my history, my nationality, why would I give that away?
Finally, the rings. Bill didn't really want a ring. Fine by me, I'm not going to go all traditional over rings all of a sudden. I knew I wanted one, but I wanted the simplest, plainest thing available and absolutely no enagement rings (if I want an expensive diamond ring, I can buy one myself, thanks). Then my mum remembered that she had my grandparents' wedding bands sitting in a drawer at home, so we had them resized and they're just perfect. Simple, plain, vintage (1948) and look much better on our fingers than in a dusty box.
So all in all it turned out to be just perfect. Perfect for us. And that's all that matters, just wish more people had the guts to do it their own way, and not stick to stupid traditions.