As I grew up and began identifying myself as a feminist, there were plenty of issues that continued to make me question marriage: the father ‘giving’ the bride away, women taking their husband’s last name, the white dress, the vows promising to ‘obey’ the groom. And that only covers the wedding.
For years my wedding ring has done its job. It has led me not into temptation. It has reminded my husband numerous times at parties that it’s time to go home. It has been a source of relief to a dinner companion. It has been a status symbol in the maternity ward.
Since the day Brahma created the world to this day, no one’s ever been able to satisfy a wedding guest. They always find some opportunity or other to find fault and criticise. One who can’t even afford a dry piece of bread at home becomes a lord at the wedding party.
Part of me believes that Beyonce and Jay-Z were naive when they chose to celebrate their five-year wedding anniversary in Cuba. However, as the daughter of a former political prisoner in Cuba, I would argue that they should have known better than to travel to the island and support its repressive regime.
Now that I think about it, my 40th birthday was the most anxiety I’ve ever had, and my wedding was also the second time I’ve had that much anxiety. So I’m starting to realize that I can’t be throwing these big bash parties because I need to own that I get anxiety with a lot of people diverting their attention to me.
A tradition I remember from my childhood was that when there was a wedding in any one family, the entire village shared the responsibility and contributed. Regardless of the caste or community, the bride became the daughter of not just a single family but of the entire village.
I’m a jewelry girl. I became with friends with designer Irene Neuwirth a few years ago. At that point, I just used to wear my wedding rings. Very low key. Now, if I could, I’d be draped from head to toe in her jewelry all the time. Everything she makes is beautiful.
The key to a happy marriage is myself being absent for long periods of time. My wife Leesa and I will celebrate our tenth wedding anniversary next year, but if my comedy gigs petered out and I was around the house more, we’d 100% be getting divorced.
I moved to Los Angeles in January 2004 because a buddy of mine, who I met at a friend’s wedding, said he could get me a room in his apartment for $500 a month. I took it thinking that it would probably only be about six months before I moved back to Chicago, but I fell in love with it.
I couldn’t tell you my wedding anniversary (although I seem to remember it was in June. Or maybe July. Definitely a month beginning with a ‘J,’ anyhow. But not January. Um. I think) and people I went to school with get extremely fed up with me when I bump into them in the street and have absolutely no recollection of their faces.
I believe the wedding vows are sacred and precious, and it’s been one of my goals as a writer to portray the kind of marriages I’ve seen modeled in my family – my parents and grandparents, who all celebrated fifty-year anniversaries and well-beyond.
I don’t really have a treasured possession, but I do love my family’s proper old photo album. We all have hundreds of photos on our phones now, but you can’t beat the old albums stuffed with black-and-white wedding photographs and 1970s Polaroids.
In marriage there are no manners to keep up, and beneath the wildest accusations no real criticism. Each is familiar with that ancient child in the other who may erupt again. We are not ridiculous to ourselves. We are ageless. That is the luxury of the wedding ring.
Ariel may look a lot like Barbie, and her adventure may be limited to romance and over with the wedding bells, but unlike, say, Cinderella or Sleeping Beauty, she’s active, brave and determined, the heroine of her own life. She even rescues the prince. And that makes her a rare fish, indeed, in the world of preschool culture.
Prop 8 did something that no other state in the history of this country has done. It took away the rights of people that already were legally affirmed. Imagine someone putting something on the ballot saying your wedding, your marriage is no longer valid.
The wedding ring on my left hand was bought by my grandfather, Samuel Miliband, in Brussels in 1920. I never knew him, as he died when I was one. But his ring was kept by my aunt until it was placed on my finger by my wife Louise 32 years later.
In my head, at least, the business of spinning stories has no closing time. Twists in my characters’ lives, glimpses of their secrets, obstacles to their dreams… all arrive unbidden when I’m getting cash at the ATM, walking my son to camp, singing a hymn at a wedding.
On the night of the winter solstice, when the dead get their annual reprieve, they go up to the 24-hour donut shop and wedding chapel to get hitched. Marriage is a good and proper pursuit for dead people. For a while, it relieves the dark, shuddering loneliness of the afterlife.
When I celebrated my bar mitzvah, there was no cake. Today, there is no such thing as a bar mitzvah in the United States without a special cake. It can be even more complicated and expensive than a wedding cake, because bar-mitzvah cakes are often based on a particular theme.
I learned hard lessons in life; I had to because I had so much happen: My mother died my sophomore year in high school. The next year, same day, my brother dropped dead. Two years after that, I got married because my girlfriend got pregnant. The year after my wedding, my father – who I had only recently met – died.
After I had the Caesarean, I was told I had really strong stomach muscles and so would heal very quickly. And I did. I was up walking about within three hours. Six days after having her, I was out shopping and shortly after that I made it to David Walliams’ wedding.
In some ways, I’m in danger of doing too many things to be able to appreciate and enjoy them. I look forward to thinking back to carrying the Olympic torch, or going to the Royal Wedding, when I’m in the middle of the ocean on my own far from anywhere – that’s when I’ll relive those moments.
I’ve chosen my wedding ring large and heavy to continue forever. But exactly because of that all the time that Dave and I have an argument I feel it like handcuffs, and on anger time I throw it in a basket. Poor Dave, he bought me three wedding rings already!
I’ve always had a propensity for getting the cursive down pretty well. What it evolved into was my pseudo-waitressing job when I was auditioning. I didn’t wait tables. I did calligraphy for the invitations for, like, Robin Thicke and Paula Patton’s wedding.
Young people: marry simply, start your life, and party later. Think of how much babysitting for your future colicky baby you could buy with that wedding budget. Think of how much marriage therapy you could buy. Invest in your marriage, not your wedding.
