Forget Polygamy, the new Mormon P-word is Pinterest.

On Saturday I went to a Mormon Wedding.

Okay so that is a lie. I’m not a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints so I am not physically allowed in the temple to watch the secret ‘sealing’ service that magically binds a man and a woman together for all eternity. I have no idea what goes on inside that room, and for all the secrecy that surrounds it, I think I’m content for it to stay that way. But though I made it to the reception, I do feel like I’ve missed out on seeing a part of my friend, of seeing a glimpse of how she is when she’s alone with her love. Watching a couple walk down the aisle and look into each other’s eyes as they promise their love is a way for me to really feel like I know someone. I’m not saying it isn’t possible to understand a person if you haven’t seen her get married, but I do think I makes a difference. And besides, it’s awesome to celebrate love, who doesn’t love a wedding?

That being said, I cry every time I attend one of these celebratory occasions, and not purely out of happiness. Usually there is some loneliness or jealousy mixed in along with a panic attack about growing up too fast and realizing that nothing will ever be the same. Sometimes there’s no dancing or the awkward mother in law takes over the mike and makes the couple promise to have kids immediately. I’ve been to weddings where the groom drank so much he started crying because he thought his new family didn’t like him and the caterers ran out of food before three tables had been served. Playlists go bad, decorations clash, arch enemies are reunited, women put on their crazy eyes; the list goes on. So as theoretically awesome as weddings should be, weddings can also suck, I get that.

And according to my parents, Mormon wedding receptions are the WORST. The ones they’ve been to entail a receiving line and not much else. Apparently they’re hosted in the poorly decorated gym of a small Mormon church (a ward) and guests are provided a cup of water or lemonade while they wait to hand the couple their gift and shake their hands in congrats. There’s no flower toss, no dancing, no mingling. Little-to-no decorations, sub-par cookies and definitely no toasts. So needless to say when my old friend from high school posted on Facebook: “Anyone who wants an invitation to my wedding should send me their address!” I was less than enthused at the prospect. But still it was a wedding and when our mutual friend (and fellow non-Mormon) insisted I attend as moral support I wasn’t about to say no.

But guess what?! It was AWESOME. When we arrived there was a guest book surrounded by pretty framed pictures and gorgeous paper flowers. We colorfully inked our thumbs to stamp balloons onto a picture of empty strings and walked by tables of cake and cookies and mini pies to arrive at the dance floor where a live jazz band was playing catchy tunes. There was food everywhere and tables you could mingle amongst to talk with other guests or take a load off to watch the band. The main room was circular with large windows overlooking the mountains and the patio was open for guests to explore. Tissue paper crafts hung from the ceiling and walls, twig and lace centerpieces dotted the tables. It was breathtaking and I’ve been to a lot of weddings. Forget Polygamy, the new Mormon P-word is Pinterest.

Her husband introduced himself to us before we could even take it all in. We’d never met in person but he won me over in two seconds flat when he said, “So you went to high school with my wife? Oh wow, sorry, it’s just that is the first time I’ve said that, my wife.” He gave me the best smile ever before I died of happiness then and there. She came over for a hug and though I haven’t seen her in years it was like we’d never parted. Have I told you that her dress was short yet? It was tiered and landed just below her knee, and they’d sewn the typical short sleeve covering to the strapless top to make it more modest. She glowed. Seriously glowed.

From there the night went much like any other wedding. They did a father daughter dance, then  a mother son, they even had a mood-lightening choreographed ballroom dance routine they broke into right after the always slightly awkward first dance. Still no toasts, but she threw the bouquet which broke apart into pieces as it flew threw the air, conveniently bestowing more than one member of the crowd with a promise of future love. And while us non-believers huddled fearfully in the corner, trying our best to doge the flowers of commitment, it was sweet to see her show such a kindness to her more zealous friends.

Speaking of zealous friends, here is the best part. Seeing as the temple ceremony is super special secret and only other married Mormons are allowed in, Mormons tend not to have traditional bridesmaids or groomsmen. Instead they ask their friends to wear the wedding color in support, usually allowing for more than just a few friends to feel included. Well guess who didn’t get that memo.

The Mormons are all about weddings. And the night after. You know you read that scene by Stephanie Meyer.

I swear guys, every female in the place was wearing peach or salmon or red or pink or some sort of spring orange that made the whole room match in beauty perfection. And then there was me and my friend, both of us wearing dark blue that signaled us out as not only outsiders but non-believers who didn’t know to call ahead and ask for the wedding colors.

But all was well because we’re talking about Mormons here, who couldn’t be rude if they tried. And besides, it’s fun to feel like a harlot every once in a while. Not to mention how happy I was just to be at this wonderful girl’s wedding. In high school we made her promise to hold out as long as she could and she made good, she turns 24 in a few weeks and she is the last of our Mormon friends to tie the knot.

The whole reception only lasted about two hours and I didn’t feel the need to sneak out a flask once (though we did consider how entertaining it would be to spike the punch). I love Mormons and I love weddings. It makes sense that the two coming together would be a match made in the 3 levels of Heaven.

 

P.s. I didn’t talk about the sex thing! A friend of mine pointed out that Mormon wedding ceremonies are generally held mid morning with the reception following much later (this one started at 6:30). She asserted that the newlyweds rush hotel/home/car to consummate their union before cleaning themselves up and heading over to their guests. I hadn’t considered that series of events and seeing as the thought of sex in general makes me blush I may or may not have slightly embarrassed myself while talking to this particular couple with that knowledge in mind. I made ridiculous faces as my rambling face said things that went a little something like this, “Congrats friends! How’s your day been so far? Get some good stuff done? Not too tired from all the activity I hope… I mean all the activities not anything in particular, you know cause wedding days are busy with more than just.. I mean you must be so excited! Not that you’re too excited…”