I got married!

Unexpected Lessons from my wedding journey

My wedding day was one of the most meaningful, emotional, and exhausting days of my life. 

Going into it, I thought I knew exactly what to expect. Like a trained PM, I had planned all the details, accounting for potential roadblocks, and gotten aligned with both mine and my husband’s family. 

So, how did it go?

Logistically, things went exactly how I expected. 

Emotionally? Completely different story. 

The (Full) Emotional Experience. 

Before I got married, everyone told me that my wedding day would be the “happiest, most perfect” day of my life. When I got engaged, it felt that way, and I hoped the feeling would persist through wedding planning.

However, reality hit hard. Coordinating countless details and people left me feeling overwhelmed. Whenever someone asked about the planning, I struggled to reconcile my true feelings with societal expectations. My anxiety spiked, leaving me wondering if we were doing it "right."

This is how, over the course of six months, my nervous system became dysregulated. I had outsized reactions to the smallest things. I had trouble sleeping. I couldn’t stop scrolling on my devices. Therapy, movement, and support from family and friends provided temporary relief, but it wasn't enough. My greatest wish was to be fully present at the wedding, surrendering to the moment and focusing entirely on my partner, family, and friends. I began to worry: would this state of mind prevent me from achieving that goal?

Fast forward to the wedding weekend. I arrived at the wedding hotel, where my parents and extended family from India had already settled. Despite my initial nervousness about potential conflicts, I felt unexpectedly calm—perhaps even excited. Whether it was finally surrendering to the situation, seeing my efforts come to fruition, or being surrounded by loved ones, something had shifted. As I chatted and joked with my family, I could feel my anxiety easing and my expectations loosening their grip. 

Lil sneak peek of our wedding dance (one of two), this one a salsa/bachata routine.

Don’t get me wrong: I still had moments of panic, like when my hair/makeup artist showed up two hours late. But instead of spiraling, I felt like I could actively make a choice of how I wanted to show up. 

This shift allowed me to stay mindful and present during my wedding, especially welcoming in grief. I’ve lost a few important relationships leading up to the wedding, including the person who would have been my maid of honor. My two grandfathers died before I got engaged. While it was difficult to feel the weight of that loss in a joyous moment, I’m grateful that I could make the space for it. It was my way of honoring their memory and stay true to myself. 

Authenticity 

I cried my entire entrance. 

Moments before the ceremony, I was laughing with friends in the bridal suite. Even during the golf cart ride to the entrance, I remained upbeat. However, as we lined up to enter—my parents flanking me and a melodic, nostalgic Bollywood bridal song playing—something inside me broke. I sobbed uncontrollably. Even now, writing this, I'm moved to tears reliving that moment. 

My mom wiping away my tears

As it was happening, I felt embarrassed and guilty. After all, I was so excited to marry my husband. I didn’t want it to seem like I was upset about marrying him. But there was a small voice in my head that said: it’s okay because this is how you feel. My parents, to their credit, didn’t tell me to stop crying either, which made me cry even more because that was the most supportive thing they could have done. 

I still don’t know why I cried. Perhaps it was the overwhelming reality of this life transition, or the recognition that my relationship with my parents would inevitably change. It might have been fear of losing the familiar dynamic we've always shared. But regardless of why it happened, I’m proud of the way I showed up. Throughout the ceremony, I never felt like I was “faking” my way through anything, even if it meant showing up in ways that felt uncomfortable in the moment. 

I’m grateful that my husband, friends, and family let me cry it out. Most importantly, I’m grateful that I gave myself the space to show up authentically on one of the most significant days of my life. 

Small > Big Moments

Leading up to the wedding, I would daydream about the “big” wedding moments: the dance. The ceremony. The entrance. The speeches. But now, I realize it’s the small moments that I cherish the most, like…  

• Watching the Wimbledon final with my brother before I started hair/makeup. 

• My cousin feeding me oatmeal as I got my hair/makeup done. 

• Holding hands with my mom in the Uber to the venue as we wipe away our tears. 

• My cousins holding up my wedding dress so I could pee. 

• Taking silly photos with my friends on the golf cart to the mandap. 

• My dad holding my sobbing body right before my entrance.  

There’s hundreds of these little, ephemeral, private, love-filled moments that hold the most meaning for me. Don’t get me wrong. The big moments matter too. Perhaps it's because I value personal connections, but these fleeting, private exchanges have stuck as the most memorable. 

Waving hi to the audience during the ceremony aka small moments

Marriage is a Practice

The week leading up to our wedding, my now-husband and I got into an ugly fight over the dumbest thing. Even though we made up, the fight left me spooked. If we could get ugly over something inconsequential, how can we trust ourselves to handle the important issues? 

This experience led me to a realization: marriage isn’t a contract guaranteeing we’ll handle the important issues well. Rather, it’s a practice of working through things as respectfully and compassionately as possible in each moment, with a mutual commitment to grow in our practice. 

This perspective is reassuring because it acknowledges that we won't always be our best selves, and that's okay. Marriage, after all, is a leap of faith. You never know what’s going to happen in the future, or how you or your partner will evolve as people. But if you have a partner that’s committed to trying to work things out, then that gives you the best shot at making it work. 

I knew that there was no one else I wanted to navigate life’s challenges with. My husband is the most growth-oriented, respectful, committed, empathetic, and resilient partner I’ve ever had. Recognizing that I had what I needed, even if it didn't always feel that way, transformed my anxiety into calm acceptance—and even excitement—about our future beyond the wedding day.

Thanks for reading

I’m on a journey to share the messiness of my career transition into a creative & entrepreneurial career, while also reflecting on the hard-won lessons from my product career. 

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