Payback is a Bach
On Friday night my friends surprised me with a bachelorette party. More accurately, they got me back for shocking them with my elopement last month.
What I thought was an after-work drink turned out to be a fully orchestrated event complete with fireball shots, duelling piano karaoke, bowling, and a slumber party.
I woke up with a full heart and an aching head.
On my way out yesterday morning, one of them said,
“Now we can really consider you married. This box has been checked.”
Honestly, is any marriage official without a night in a bridal sash? I thought mine was, but this penis straw send-off fully cemented that I'm entering into a new phase of my relationship.
After a month of travelling with my new husband, a night with the girls is the thing that made it the most real.
Every Millennial in 2021
Miss to Mrs
The transition from Miss to Mrs feels seamless in the moment. Mark and I have been living together for 3 years. The only major difference in our day-to-day lives is an extra accessory.
Historically, weddings usher in a new life. You move in together, buy a house, have sex for the first time – traditions that have died hard and fast in our modern world.
Being a newlywed has me wondering what it means to be “grown-up.”
As technical adults, there are rites of passage many Millennials feel like we should have experienced by now. Few are the homeowners or parents we were expecting, which puts us in a state of limbo.
Not a girl, not yet a woman vibes.
As children, we expected these pieces would fall into place if we did the right things. Now the world is proving to be much more difficult, and we’ve created our own definition of “adulting.” Truthfully, it’s pretty unfulfilling.
Similarly, work is not nearly as straightforward as it used to be. How often do you meet someone with a simple job title? The nurses, cops, and lumberjacks are the minority. Most of us exist in corporate ambiguity, and we use linguistic acrobatics to explain “what we do.” Sending emails is not a definable role
Thinking about how you describe your job can be existentially draining and confusing. My technical title is a Client Sales Execution Manager, which means nothing on its own. It’s not transferrable or even translatable to most other industries.
That title also doesn’t capture my volunteer work, writing, or hobbies. When someone asks what I do, I need to spew out a 5-paragraph essay to break it all down. When I try to simplify it to “writer and executioner,” it’s even more confusing…
Being a “wife” isn’t definable anymore. Many people have asked if I’m taking Mark’s last name, and most are shocked when I say that he’s assuming mine. One co-worker even asked if Mark was “okay with that,” which is hilarious because we’ve never when women abandoned their names.
The reality is that there are fewer and fewer moulds to follow. Careers aren’t linear, life requires more than one occupation, and women aren’t always keen to lose their names for the sake of their partners.
How I thought I looked at the bar
Put a Ring on It
In all the uncertainty of work and adulthood, a simple label can bring solace. Becoming Mr. and Mrs. McCormick is grounding. Our household officially has a name.
Having a “husband” is a new joy in and of itself. I’ve been enjoying saying it so much, that Mark’s name has ceased to exist in our home. Now I just yell “husband” across the apartment when I need something.
Not to be a nerd, but there is power in definitions. For example, articles at the start of the pandemic urged people to define their workspaces at home. Many books suggest that creativity works best within a box. Saying “draw something” is overwhelming, but “draw your favourite place” gives just enough direction to move your pencil forward.
Personally, I’ve always been interested in personality-based theories. Myers-Briggs, natal charts, enneagrams – you name it, I can speak to it. To me, categorizing feels safe and helpful. If you tell me you see the world as an INFJ, it gives me a rubric to work with.
These rubrics help us make sense of that which is non-sensical. As a 13-year-old I was diagnosed with chronic pain, and it was a huge relief. Nothing helped my symptoms, but my diagnosis allowed me to name what was wrong. Having a definition was its own reassurance.
Like they say, “knowledge is power.”
On the flipside, labels can be prescriptive. For instance, when we don’t fit our own definitions of adulthood, we’re quick to call ourselves failures. Of course, the negative self—talk doesn’t help.
Much research has been done to say that self-labelling is restrictive and harmful for growth. When you tell yourself you’re horrible at something, you’ll find a way to be right. It’s a self-fulfilling prophecy of “I think, therefore I am.”
The same is true when we label other people. Understanding ourselves through the lens of different labels creates mental shortcuts that dictate our thinking and behaviour. If we align fully with one group, we’ll follow along with their decisions, sometimes blindly. People are quicker to say that they are a Liberal than to outline which policies they agree and disagree with. This kind of bucketing is what leads to an “us vs them” mentality.
If you want to see this in action, look at our neighbours to the south…
As individuals, celebrities are often the most harshly categorized. Tabloids choose how we see them, and we forget that they are multifaceted people. Billie Eilish and Adele, for example, were both cast as body positivity icons. We never factored in their relationships with their bodies.
In an interview with Vogue, Adele commented on her weight loss:
My body’s been objectified my entire career. It’s not just now. I understand why it’s a shock. I understand why some women especially were hurt. Visually I represented a lot of women. But I’m still the same person.
We use labels to make sense of famous people as they relate to our worldview. To many who saw themselves in Adele, her body transformation was an abandonment. To others, it was an evolution. Her personal commentary has little to do with our reaction and subsequent labelling.
If you think we’re kinder consumers than that, remember that Britney Spears is still pitted against former versions of herself. The woman has been locked up for decades by her abusive father, and we compare her to what she was like as a teenager.
This is labelling at its worst.
When it comes to celebrities, have a hard time understanding that they can be multifaceted. The tabloids have prescribed boxes for everyone, and we panic when they don’t fall in line. Adele can have lost weight and still be a positive role model for women. Britney can move past the “girl-next-door” persona and still be kind. Not everything is mutually exclusive.
Duality can also exist within the labels we’ve created. Marginalized groups will often reclaim a derogatory label for themselves. Words like “bitch” and “queer” have become powerful identifiers for those who were lumped into groups.
Labels are only interesting when they relate to each other. Being a wife on its own is boring, but it’s tacking on to a lengthy list of other identifiers. I’m a writer, a Client Sales Execution Manager, a Sagittarius, a dancer, an ugly-sleeper, and now one-half our McCormick household.
This weekend though, I’m still living on the high of being a “bride.”
Waking up to write this morning
Pass the Advil
After my surprise bachelorette, I feel oddly more married. It was the perfect celebration with the other great loves of my life - the ones who knew me before I was even a “girlfriend” - and waking up this morning felt transitional.
At the very least I felt hungover.
To all my ladies reading this week - thank you! I can’t define much about growing up, but it means a lot to label you as my friends.
