Warning: There is LANGUAGE in this blog.
I follow @thebridaltheory on Instagram. I really like the Wedding Truths they post. Number 67 says that vendors are good allies, and to be honest and open with them. Underlying that statement is that vendors are honourable and act with integrity. Today, I would like to spin that around and say that vendors need to believe that couples are our best allies, and that it’s worthwhile to be open and honest with them, too.
Sometimes I nearly gag when I see vendors post social media stories and posts about what a delight it was to work with such a wonderful couple after the wedding, I can’t believe it because some couples are disrespectful and rude to vendors, and unreasonable in their demands and expectations. And yet we don’t blab bad reviews about couples all over the internet.
Today though, I’m going to tell you a story. I’m sitting here at my computer with an ice pack tucked into my groin to try to numb the throbbing from a never-ending wedding injury.
A few months ago, I am getting ready to officiate an elopement (2 guests + photography) wedding ceremony for a young couple, in their 20’s, (Gen Z). We gather in the parking lot. They inform me, they changed the location of their ceremony from a flat meadow near the ocean to a different spot. This is the first that both the photographer and I have heard of it.
“It’s just a short walk,” minces the bride.
Off we set. Across the parking lot, up a grassy verge, slick with the morning’s rain, down a length of sidewalk, more path along a field, and then into the forest. Hold on a sec! What?!
“Almost there!” chirps the bride. The path is well worn from walkers and dogs, with many gnarly roots sticking out. It is slick from the rain run-off. My annoyance at the change in the venue and the terrain over which we were traversing, grew to panic when we reached an incline. Are you fucking kidding me?
Let me pause here to explain. For me, it’s a particular hazard because I have a condition called foot drop, which means my left foot is partially paralyzed and I have no dorsiflexion: I cannot lift my foot from the ankle, you know, like when you tap your foot. There is nothing, no nerve response, just a wobbly plank at the end of my leg. For this condition, I wear a brace, which is very helpful for walking and life in general. However, if I catch my toe on something, my Blue Rocker Ankle-Foot Orthosis becomes a Blue Flinger and catapults me right into the ground. Have you ever used a chuck- it, those dog ball throwing things, and you don’t get the release-flick just right and the ball hits the ground in front of you, instead of being flung into the air at great distance? Well, that’s what happens to me with my brace on. I get flung flat on my face before I even know I’m falling. I don’t like to talk about or draw attention to it, but it is a definite limitation. And walking downhill is treacherous.
By my calculation, the incline of this grade is about 20%. It is steep. It is rooted and it is slick. I walk with a cane on uneven terrain out of an abundance of caution, but the cane is not adequate for this. The couple has gone way far ahead and bless their heart, the photographer helps me down the hill.
We get to the spot the couple has chosen, and the ceremony takes place. The ceremony, its creation and delivery, will be another story for another day.
I make the journey back by myself. Yes, it is stubborn and foolhardy to do that. However, I am angry at being duped into a change of place, and disappointed in my physical limitations. Uphill is generally easier. However, Karma, for my Scorpio vindictiveness, has a surprise for me: a slippy-slide on the daunting incline over-extends my braced leg backwards. I know I am paying for not taking a stand at the outset of this situation.
I should have just sat at the bottom of the hill and wept until help happened along, which was my first instinct. But I was not thinking clearly.
I am continuing to feel the impact of my decision that day to go along with whatever the couple decides. I have spent A LOT of money on physio for this “it’s just soft tissue” injury. I am now asking more questions and declining dangerous-to-me situations, even though it means losing business. I am honest and open, and put my trust in couples. Just as I listen to and advocate for them, I need to believe they will have some accountability to me. If couples feel that my request undermines their vision for their ceremony, I am at peace with losing business.
P.S. Follow Up. Two weeks after the ceremony, I send an email to the couple, asking them to let me know when they receive their Marriage Certificate and inviting them to leave a review at the included link. There is no review. Instead, I get an email. In its entirety, it reads, “Thank you for your help.” What am I supposed to do with that, now?
