Wedding Bells

 I could write a great deal about my Wedding but a lot of it is sensitive, painful and private. This Blog though is about my life with a Mother who had Narcissistic Personality Disorder so I will focus on the parts that she influenced. Aged 30 I married, we had been together for 7 years, had bought a house and now were thinking about starting a family. 
 I had been engaged for a while and so we set a date and told his parents who were happy for us and interested in all our plans. We joked, anticipating the response we would get from my own Parents. 

As we drive into their road Husband to be says "Just tell them we are getting married and then wait, see if they show any interest" We both knew it would be like winding a key in Mothers back and watching her go.  So we did just that. We told them we were getting married "Congratulations" we told them when "Oh Yes" and then away she went. "Remember when we got married Geoff" she gushed. We then heard every detail, as well as who paid for what, the Honeymoon and a back story of how they met and how long they waited to marry as she was in a convalescence home for a while. She`s been convalescing ever since. We were there for over an hour before we eventually made our excuses and left. On the drive home we both noted that they had asked not one detail of our own plans, it was all just about her.

Husband to be reported back to his family about their complete disinterest, he told me to not mention the wedding again to them and see if they ever asked. They didn`t, all they had was a date. The weeks rolled by and with 2 months to go they send in a Flying Monkey in the form of a call from my Father`s sister, my Aunt, who says she`s very sorry to call and doesn`t want to be put in this position but my Father has rang her to say they feel very left out, and are upset as they know absolutely nothing about the wedding and it is a few weeks away now, though Mother has bought her outfit ready. I explain what had happened and she understands but feeling sympathy for her younger Brother she gently suggests I find a way to fill them in. Next visit I mention my cake and they are all ears so I share a few more wedding details until she tunes out and wants to show me her outfit. I am then told she has a special account with some money in to pay for my Wedding and in particular my Wedding Dress. She`s had the account for years apparently though its the first I`ve ever heard of it and oddly it was not mentioned when we visited them to announce we had set a date. My dress is already paid for I lie. I realise what she is doing is trying to buy herself some limelight. If anyone comments how nice her daughter looks she can then beam and graciously share that it was she who paid for my dress, thus making it about her again instead of me. I thank them and say if they want to contribute they could cover the cost of the flowers if they would like, she purses her lips but Father jumps in and agrees with enthusiasm `they would love to`. She then adds that she will withdraw the money anyway and we can put it towards any other costs. It was about £600 and she later made out she paid for the whole wedding with this gift when in reality it was a fraction of the cost.

We would be having a Register Office wedding, when I thought of a church wedding I imagined all the ways my Mother would be triggered by me walking down the aisle and it almost frightened me what she may be capable of to ruin it for me, a quieter wedding seemed safer and there were 5 little girls all prospects as bridesmaids, again 5 seemed extravagant for a Register Office so rather than leave anyone out we decided on no bridesmaids. I regretted that later but at the time I felt the need to keep it toned down. My Aunt was travelling up from Devon. Her brother, my Uncle, was too poorly to attend {he sadly passed away a Month later} and so with her and my Parents that meant just 3 from my side of the family there, though plenty from Husband`s side. Chatting about how to get my Aunt to the venue we come up with a plan that she can share a taxi with my Mother, each then having someone to arrive with, my Father arriving with his daughter, the Bride, in a vintage, gold Rolls Royce, paid for as a wedding gift by the Grooms family. And there was the problem. Dear Little Amanda, as it was her wedding day, would be the star of the show and Mother would have a supporting role along side her sister-in-law. This plan has to be then run past my Father. I`m dreading it. 

 I pluck up the courage to call, my head aching from overthinking and wedding nerves, as I reach for the phone my legs feel a little shaky so I sit on the floor and dial. He answers and we make small talk before I clear my voice and trying to sound as casual as possible, mention we had been sorting out travel arrangements and suggest it a good idea if Mother goes in a taxi with my Aunt as he will be in the car with me. Silence......my heart is racing....more silence. "Dad?"......oh....er....er  ermm....well....Couldn`t ya Mother come in the car with us ?......{Clearly not concerned about his aged sister arriving by herself}
NO, I think to myself, No she couldn`t, I just could not bear it, her and her Actress voice, fussing if she looked OK, him pandering to her, me squashed up the corner, pulling up with everyone looking on and her alighting from the Rolls with Geoff in attendance, beaming at the waiting crowd....oh but wait...haven`t we forgotten something, she checks she has her gloves and then....Oh of course !... Dear Little Amanda`s still in the car,.... `Hurry up then Geoff or my hair will be ruined`...

  ....more stunned silence, this time from me. " Well that`s not what usually happens, its usually just the Bride and Father in the car" I say quietly. I wait, time slows down along with my heart and the micro seconds tick slowly by, I actually have my fingers crossed now, I`m willing him for once to make the right choice, to choose me, his only child, his daughter on her wedding day.....please, please....choose me......
 "Well errrr......couldn`t the best man go in the car with you then...?" {Because clearly he won`t be if she can`t come too}. My heart fell and a couple of silent tears rolled down my face. At some point I said " OK, I`ll sort something out" and I rang off. Naturally I felt, hurt, let down, worthless but I also felt so ashamed too.......what would people think......surely they would wonder why my father thinks so little of me he will not put him self out to take me to my wedding....I wonder that myself too. In the end they travelled together and made no offer to take his sister so we arranged a lift for her with another guest. 

  And so my Father-In-Law steps into the vacant role, I`m grateful of course but it feels odd, there are no tender pre-wedding words exchanged between Father and daughter, no, I`m so proud, be happy, I`m always here, you look beautiful etc....all the things I dearly hope my own daughter will share with her Dad on her wedding day. I suppose though there never would have been, we did not have that type of close relationship and he had never been there for me or proud of me so why start faking it now. And when we arrive, me with my `borrowed for the day Dad`, there they are, waiting in the crowd, her with a beaming, self-satisfied smile and him watching me sheepishly as another man stands by my side as we pose for the obligatorily  `Arrival of The Bride and her Father` photograph, next to a Rolls Royce that I know he would of loved.

 As we all move forwards preparing to enter the building, my Mother appears from the crowd and loudly in her best Leading Lady actress voice, for all to hear, I actually wondered if she`d been practising as the deliver is Oscar worthy, she declares...... "HAPPY WEDDING DAY AMANDA !!"......dressed with a sickly smile and ice cold resentful eyes.

Later at the Evening reception, at some point they approach me, he`s ahead of her, a sure sign he`s been sent on a mission, smiling she nods at him saying "Go on then Geoff". He clears his voice slightly, as if about to give a speech and he says to me, " We would just like to say how very proud of you we are today Amanda",  he looks pleased with himself and they both stand there grinning inanely. Obviously a damage limitation exercise to absolve themselves of any failing of duty. " Would you like a drink?" I ask, unable to find any other words to answer with. They spend the rest of the evening in the next room, away from my new Husband`s crowd. She `fake smokes` taking little puff`s of a cigarette held more as a prop and my Enabling Father dutifully fetches her brandy`s from the bar, offering anyone nearby a drink too, in the vein hope of carving himself a last minute role from the days proceedings. 

In telling this tale the only time I felt tearful was when I wrote this, I could still remember how awkward he looked, trying to strike up a conversation with someone...anyone, smart enough to realise he had made a grave error of judgement and yet far too weak to have made any other choice, he looked pitiful and pity him I did. You see all these years on its still easier to find tears for another rather than myself, I`m conditioned to ignore my own feelings and needs and attend to others instead, such are the lasting effects of being raised by a Narcissistic Mother .

The following day I take my bouquet and lay in on my Nan`s grave. Did I mention I loved her dearly ? I was pleased with my bridal bouquet. I asked for one similar to Princess Diana`s, I loved the design and the trailing foliage. I held it firmly in front of me, as if somehow it would protect me, like a shield. It also covered up and compensated for my extremely plain dress, which I would readily agree myself was more of a head bridesmaid number than Bridal gown. You see I just couldn`t bring myself to go trying on lots of beautiful dresses, it felt uncomfortable to me so I opted to have one made, less expense, less fuss. Foolishly I went once to be measured and show her the picture of what I wanted, secondly for her to show me the material she had bought, which I had my doubts about but didn`t want to make a fuss and also to try on the lining so we knew it would fit and finally, just 2 days before the wedding I went to try on the finished dress. It was truly horrendous. 

 The material was completely unsuitable for the style, far too thin to hold any shape. It looked like an oversized, cheap, child's dress up outfit. Did I cry, did I say its not what I wanted, did I say what am I going to do ?....Why no...I smiled and said it was wonderful and thank you so very much.

I then searched town the next day, my sister-in-law with me for support, and explaining the dilemma as we went, shop staff were first aghast "What you mean this Saturday ???!!!"  and when I said yes they could not have been more sympathetic and helpful. I found a dress I would like, plain enough for me not to be even recognised as the Bride in the Bridal party {I did not look for one similar to the original style I choose because fate had already said no to that idea} they didn`t have my size but ordered one by special courier and I picked it up on the eve of my wedding day. The assistant had a tear in her eye as she handed it to me...."I was terrified it might not arrive in time" she says kindly...I wish you were my Mom I thought.    And so my wedding day played out complete with very special guest. A rough looking, chain smoking, pint swilling, brassy blonde who my Husband worked with. Bored with her own marriage and children she decided she would be a great support to my Husband the following year, when we were dealing with the first two of many miscarriages. When I arrived at our wedding and my `Husband to Be` clapped eyes on me, did he say how lovely I looked ?  No, instead he rushed forwards saying  "Where`s the toilets I need to check if my nose looks red"  {From the onset of alcoholism} Neither my father nor my Husband to be made me feel special on my Wedding day, not that it registered at the time, I was just so accustomed to it. With hindsight I should of cut and run out on both of them. If I had I can well imagine my Narc Mother saying `Well Geoff, shall me and you go home in the car then, its a shame to waste it` !

You know the last page of the Lady Bird books where the Princess is in a beautiful gown and about to marry her Prince..... yeah...blatant mis-selling.....  

And they all lived miserably ever after