Confessions of a Recovering Commitment-Phobe
The Big Leap series has been resurrected! Every Friday, we share a big leap from a guest contributor. Here is Ifdy Perez, and look at how beautiful she looks in this photo. Please thank her for sharing this beautiful story. I know it was a big leap for her just to do so.
I didn’t know what everyone was hassling me about when I admitted to the Twittersphere I had never seen The Princess Bride. When I finally saw it, I realized what I had been missing.
Hello! My name is Inigo Montoya! You killed my father! Prepare to die!
You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.
Mawage is wot bwings us togeder tooday . . .
I’m an instant fan of quotable movies. And I almost died when Inigo Montoya tweeted at me. (K, I know it’s not real but entertaining nonetheless.)
One of the things I loved most about the movie is it’s take on life. The characters’ paths twist and turn in interesting, comedic, and unexpected ways. Like all of ours. Like mine.
About a month ago, I stood at an altar in a beautiful church in the suburbs of Virginia. I wore a Spanish-style wedding dress, and my head was throbbing with the heavy pressure of curls, a thousand bobby pins, and a cathedral-length veil. My soon-to-be-husband stood beside me, and my dad––the officiant––did his thing. (And no, he didn’t say twu wuv will fowwow you fowever, though that would have been hilarious.)
I was cool. This was a day I had been wanting for almost a year. In fact, I couldn’t wait until we were finally pronounced husband and wife to get the heck out of there, and get on with our Belizean honeymoon! But if you had told Past Ifdy that she’d be making vows one day, she would have laughed at you.
“Commit? Me?! Yeah, no.”
It was inconceivable for me to A) commit to someone I had met only a year or so earlier, and B) risk compromising my life plans! I had it all planned out––duh. And besides, there isn’t anyone in the world whom I would be incredibly crazy about enough to change my mind about any of these things. Right? Right?! Bueller?
Then, Mark came along. A tall, not-so-dark but handsome man introduced himself to me at a friend’s Halloween party. Later, he came to this damsel in distress as he jump started my dead car. Me? Swooned!
We were engaged six months later, had a chic-yet-economic wedding last month, and I’m actually putting money into a savings account. (I give you permission to laugh at me now.)
My perspectives changed, and not without struggle. I had lived my entire life as an island. I had family and friends I loved, yes, but no one I had committed my life to. I lived in my own apartment, ate what I wanted to (many nights were filled with scoops of Nutella for dinner), travelled where I wanted to, and spent my money however I liked.
A lot has changed. I haven’t given up my career goals, but I’ve been humbled by having a mirror all up in my grill. I’m not an island anymore; my decisions affect someone else. Every. Single. Decision. Everything I do, I do thinking about what’s best for him, for us.
So when I decided to make the decision, to take the plunge, I never looked back. Once I caught a glimpse of something lovely, I did whatever I could to get there. I think that applies to most scenarios when there’s a risk involved. Whatever the odds are, you just can’t settle until you give it your best shot. And your best shot can only come if you’re seriously, 100 percent committed. You stomp out the doubts, and close off any exit strategies, and re-prioritize if that’s what it takes to take the plunge.
You’re all in.
I’m an amateur human. I’ve got a lot to learn, and more to live (Lord willing). But here’s what the past year taught me: Commitments are big leaps. Once you dive, the air will take you where it wants you to go. The most you can do is plan as much as you can before; think through the scenarios and evaluate the risks. But when you see something so wonderful, enticing, good, and valuable, you’re an idiot to let it go without trying. And when you try, do everything in your might or go home.
Speaking of home, I have a husband waiting for me. Signing off.