six months to go

two and a half years ago, i started this blog to wrap my mind around dating again in my mid 30s after a ten year hiatus. six months in, it evolved into a falling in love blog and, another six months after that, a wedding blog. just shy of a year from our first wedding anniversary, fraser and i found out that i am pregnant (yey!) turning my focus to motherhood.

but first things first. pregnancy.

real talk. getting pregnant was not easy, especially in a society that tells women in their early 30s to start thinking about it before it's too late. women who are lucky enough to get pregnant after 35 are automatically considered high risk regardless of their health. that would be me. we found out about my pregnancy a month before my 38th bday. we'd been trying for over a year.

the truth is, i didn't think it would take us so long. in spite of close friends and acquaintances who've had difficulty getting pregnant, i blindly believed i would be an exception rather than the rule. i have a sister who had multiple miscarriages before having her children and one who naturally had twins without complications. still, i naively thought it would be relatively easy. after all, i'd taken good care of myself and am totally in love with my husband. of course, it would happen.

just months before i took my very first pregnancy test, fraser and i realized we'd been trying for almost a year and getting my period began to take its toll. my initial excitement, which had turned to nonchalance (in an attempt to cover how hard it was hitting me emotionally) became impatience. frustration. anger. there were times i actually cried when i got my period. it didn't make sense and i gradually became sadder and sadder about it. at some point, i asked my closest friends not to bring it up unless i initiated the conversation because it hurt to talk about it.

the fact that i am pregnant is an incredible gift. fraser and i know many other couples who deserve the same and haven't been yet. to say that i'm grateful for the life growing inside of me is an understatement. i have to admit, however, that i had no idea what i was in for as i hoped, prayed and dreamed about being pregnant.

pregnancy is no joke.

i am in awe of every woman who's survived pregnancy. every single one. to be fair, i recently worked in an environment where pregnant women took indoor cycling and/or yoga classes like it was the most natural thing to do. a few of the instructors taught these same classes throughout their pregnancy, inspiring roomfuls of people to sweat it out and/or keep their zen. i admired these women for keeping up with their normal workout routines as i took their classes or worked out alongside them. today, i would give them all gold medals.

i have to be very careful here because i don't, in any way, mean to complain. that said, fifteen weeks into my pregnancy, i'm finally beginning to feel like myself again. working out exhausts me. i take pilates twice a week and have to nap after. i need more sleep than i've ever needed before. there were days when i'd sleep for ten or twelve hours a night and take a two hour nap in the afternoon. luckily, my schedule allowed for such luxuries; i cannot imagine holding a full time job and going through the first trimester.

with all that sleep, you'd think i'd feel refreshed and ready to take on the day. not so. i was nauseous for about six weeks straight. i never actually threw up but always felt like i was on the verge. having nausea 24/7 was numbing. everything smelled really bad. eating became i chore, which is disappointing because eating is one of my favorite things in the world. i assumed i'd have cravings for weird food combinations and enjoy consuming them. sadly, the opposite happened. i craved nothing. in fact, i lost my appetite but was constantly having to eat in an attempt to avoid full-blown nausea… the nausea eventually subsided and i only got nauseous when i waited too long to eat (thus the non-stop eating).

headaches are my new thing. for awhile, avoiding salty foods later in the day and drinking water helped. unfortunately, that's no longer true. i wake up with a headache every morning these days no matter how much water i drink. even though i'm not sick, i also have a runny nose and occasionally get nosebleeds. my appetite is still not the same but at least i can eat meat again. the only thing i've really craved is sushi, which i can't have. (yes. i know i can have california and tempura rolls, but i want the real thing. raw salmon. raw albacore. raw yellowtail.) oh. and i feel like i'm gonna throw up whenever i bend down now. all normal symptoms and not all in my head. i have a friend who is due three months ahead of me and sis-in-law is a month behind me, who both assure me that all of it is normal... and that more is coming.

i had conversations about pregnancy with each of my sisters recently. bells, who hated being pregnant, teasingly asked me how it was going, knowing full well how blindsided i was physically. she laughed knowingly as i told her how much i didn't enjoy it in spite my excitement about being pregnant. ate, on the other hand, dismissed my inquiry when i asked her why she didn't tell me how hard pregnancy was, simply saying that she kept her focus on the end result: a baby.

my baby.
our baby.
peanut.

when i think about peanut, i am overcome with love. gratitude. even a bit of grace… i'm not gonna lie, i worry every day that i'm not eating enough of a variety, am drinking too much coffee (i'm allowed 12oz a day) and not enough water, am not sleeping enough or pushing too hard in a pilates class. i talk to peanut and imagine what she looks like (fraser commented the other day that we're going to need to pull a major switch if peanut is, in fact, a boy because i've been calling her a girl for weeks now. for the record, he wants a mini version of me and i want a mini version of him, but i have a strong feeling peanut is a mini me).

bells told me that the love she has for her twins is beyond anything she'd ever known. knowing how much of my heart belongs to my nieces and nephews, she assured me that my heart will expand and love in new, inexplicable ways. i can't imagine loving anyone more than i love my family, my friends and fraser, but i look forward to giving peanut everything that i've got.

it's been a long time since i've posted one of these. the past several weeks, i've simply been too tired. the months before that, however, i felt too defeated by the whole trying to get pregnant thing. now that i am, i will power through the symptoms and keep my eye on the prize: peanut.

our very own little peanut.

success 101

yesterday was my maternal grandmother's birthday. she would have been a hundred.

growing up, i was her obvious favorite and she was mine. when she got really sick several years ago, i didn't go to see her. she died after a massive surgery a few weeks later and, still, i didn't go... i didn't want to see her like that and made every excuse not to. at the time, i truly believed i was doing the best thing. i see now that what i did was, in fact, the best thing. for me. i allowed my fear of losing my beloved grandmother to be a selfish excuse to not be there for her or my mom.

i haven't been back to the philippines since we celebrated my grandmother's 85th birthday fifteen years ago. there is a part of me that never wants to go back because she won't be there anymore and her death will be real... obviously, it is but i haven't been back there to see it. to experience the world of my childhood without her. it breaks my heart just thinking about it.

her picture graces my messy desk. i cry when i look into her eyes. her love for me shines through her eyes even in a photograph. i have many memories of her protecting, encouraging, teaching, defending, spoiling, taking care of me. she used to braid my hair every morning for school and was so proud of everything i did. i often wonder if she'd be proud of me today.

there's an exercise we do in the non-profit i work in that asks our teenage students to stand before their peers and declare the things they love, hate and dream. it's the last exercise we do in each class before they start writing their show because it reminds everyone in the room that, in spite of our differences, we are all similar in our desire for love, reasons for hate and dreams for the future. to be successful is almost always a part of everyone's dreams for themselves. most of our students equate making a lot of money with success. the more enlightened ones focus their dreams on being happy.

wouldn't it be wonderful for the world to recognize being happy as an essential part of a successful life?

my sister, bells, travels the world with an expense account and has beautiful three-year-old twins at home (4bed, 3.5bath, 3car garage) with her husband. we had an interesting exchange over the phone recently.

me: i babysat the other night. so much fun.
bells: i wish i did random, fun jobs like you.
me: you make six figures, live in your dream house and have healthy twins. i wish i had that.
bells: it's not all that. i wish i live in warm weather.
me: true. i wouldn't trade being in shorts in february but hustling is not glamorous.
bells: it sounds fun.
me: going to europe sounds fun.

the grass is always greener on the other side.

that said, i've never seen bells happier than she's been since having her twins. i've also been much happier lately... would bells like to live in warmer weather and have more time to sing and dance? of course. would i like to make more money and be a working actress and a mother already? absolutely. but the fact that we're both happy with what we have (my 1bed, 1bath, tandem parking with fraser is awesome) makes each of us a success in our own right. it looks different for everyone. what makes each of our lives beautiful and worth the fight is our individual passions and the happiness we create when we live up to our potential.

i dream of a world where success is not measured by the amount of money you make or the things you possess but how kindly you treat yourself and others, how much happiness you hold in your heart and how much love and creativity you express to the world.

my grandmother loved to sing and dance. she had lots of friends and was a pillar in our hometown; she was really good with money. i'm very much like her with a bit of my paternal grandmother's compassion and hustling ways. they were both successful in their own way... i hope they're both proud of me.

permission to celebrate

my birthday month was hijacked by my wedding this year. as happy as i am to be married to fraser, as awesome as our beach wedding was and as easy as it would be to write about it all, i am taking a step away from it to honor my inner birthday diva for this post.

i've had quite a year since my last birthday and fraser did a great job celebrating me this year. normally, i'd plan a themed gathering for it but, with all the wedding hoopla (bridal shower, engagement party, wedding week), i decided to forgo my birthday party... bad idea. i remember fraser's mom telling him to keep our wedding anniversary and my birthday separate from each other. i agreed with her but didn't take the advice myself. lesson learned.

fraser did everything right. he took the day off from work. we picked up coffee and walked through a farmers market on our way to the beach the morning of my birthday. we sat on the sand facing the pacific. i walked to the water and felt the ocean kiss the the sand under my feet. three things i love all before noon... he made pulled pork sandwiches for lunch and took me to a bakery we've been meaning to try. we ate pastries and laughed until we cried over our own silliness. he bought theatre tickets and sat through a one woman show because i love live theatre. it was awesome. all of it... still. i would've loved the themed gathering i've grown accustomed to.

it's important to celebrate yourself and, what better way to do it, aside for a party, than by giving yourself a gift? here, ladies and gentlemen, is a list of the best gifts i've given myself over the years. often on my birthday but not always... may it encourage you to celebrate your awesomeness.

gym membership. i was twenty-four, in la and no longer taking dance classes or walking all over campus. power walking wasn't cutting it so i joined a gym, where i took step aerobics, salsa and yoga. it also introduced me to spin/indoor cycling, which i fell in love with. i eventually got tired of the same classes and ended my membership. i did a few rounds of p90x... my gym membership was instrumental in keeping me in shape and healthy. i made a habit of working out regularly, which i am grateful for today. i'm all about spin and yoga these days. it feels good to sweat. whatever physical activity gets you going is what you should do. for you.

roth ira. i gave myself two thousand dollars for my twenty-fifth birthday and have been paying myself first since. because i've never had a traditional job, it was important that i set up an individual retirement account. my only regret is not starting one earlier... there's a commercial with three business men eating at a diner. outside a couple of teenage boys are touching the smooth surface of a beautiful classic car. it cuts to the waitress in the diner yelling at the boys to step away from her car and the business men raising their eyebrows at each other... i was that server (except i drive a sensible honda civic); a manager of mine used to say that i was the richest server he knew. i don't do anything  (everything is automatically taken out of my checking account and put into various funds for my roth ira, emergency fund and wedding/condo fund) but i do live below my means. i am not writing this to brag. quite the opposite. i'm writing it to let you know that it's possible to prepare for your financial future on any income, especially when it's just you. do it asap. for you.

lasik. an asian girl walked into the restaurant i used to work at wearing a jean skirt and a tshirt. her hair flowed down her back. she wore little or no make up. i told her she looked pretty because i'm a big fan of giving compliments to strangers. she told me she'd just 'rolled out of bed'; i decided to get lasik in that moment. i'd worn glasses that only got thicker in time since middle school. i don't wear makeup. i wanted to roll out of bed and look like that girl did... it cost an arm and a leg because i went to the place where cameron diaz and nicole kidman had theirs done. worth every penny.

bold, gold ring. i love jewelry and was devastated when someone broke into my apartment a few years ago and stole all of my jewelry along with my roommate's. i had a lot of fashion jewelry but also had several of my grandmother's pieces and ones my parents had gifted me. my family and friends have since rebuilt my collection, which consists of pieces similar to ones i used to own... i'd been looking for a ring to represent my transformation over the past couple of years before i met fraser. i wanted to reward myself with a bold piece of jewelry for facing my fears, taking a leap and welcoming change. when bells showed me an inch long, egg shaped rose gold ring with diamonds last spring, i knew i'd finally found it... fraser proposed just weeks after i bought my transformation ring and i was afraid i'd automatically favor my engagement ring. not so. fraser could not have picked a more perfect ring for me, but my transformation ring is something i chose to celebrate my growth. it is equally important, beautiful and meaningful. do not be afraid to invest in anything you love. for you.

permission.  to continue to pursue acting. to make time to workout. to quiet my mind with yoga. to eat potato chips then chocolate then potato chips again. to laugh out loud. to call my mom. my sister. any one of my best friends. to say no and not feel guilty about it. to let my body rest. to meet friends for lunch, coffee or a movie. to cry whenever something touches me: a book, a movie, a commercial, whatever... to quit my job. to leave. to start over. to try online dating. to jump into the unknown. to trust my gut and allow myself to fall in love. again. to get married a year from the day we met. to forgo tradition and get married on the beach instead of in church. to have a small wedding. to ask for what i need. or want. to express my anger and frustration. to ask for help. to live in love and gratitude. to do anything. for me... you can do anything. for you.

i never would've given myself any of the gifts i wrote about, or anything else for that matter, without permission. the amazing thing is, you don't need anyone else's permission. just yours... i always ask a handful of people for their opinion, especially when it comes to big decisions, but the choice is ultimately mine to make, which is simultaneously awesome and scary. awesome because i get live the life i choose. scary because i am responsible for whatever happens... that's the rub, i guess. not being able to point a finger and blame someone else if you make a wrong choice. then again, who's to say whether it's right or wrong? give yourself permission to take a chance. maybe your heart will break or maybe it will soar higher than you ever thought possible... if you make a mistake, own it, learn the lesson and move on... be okay with making the same mistake more than once. our heart is sometimes stronger than our minds... ooh. watch out for your ego (that's another blog but be wary of your ego).

give yourself permission to celebrate yourself. at least on your birthday... i try to celebrate my strength, beauty and loving heart every day by being kind to myself. it doesn't have to be a big deal but be aware of what you think of yourself. it is life changing.

i strong. i am beautiful. i am loved.
i am always cared for and supported.
i allow great things to come to me.
i am rich. i have abundance. i am grateful.
i deserve love and an acting career.

go on, beauties. celebrate your awesomeness. permit yourselves... for you.

bride and feminist

fraser and i had to fill out a questionnaire for our beach wedding: what colors we want on the canopy, what flowers we want for my bouquet, how many chairs we need, what songs we want to hear... do we want the officiant to say "who gives this woman away?" to my dad when we reach fraser? huh... do we?

fraser: that doesn't sound right.

me: what do you mean?

fraser: you're not property... (sarcastically) i'll pay two shillings for the girl!

me: (laughing) two shillings? really? where are we?

fraser: three shillings!

we decided against it because it doesn't sit right with us, but that doesn't mean that couples who choose to have those words spoken at their ceremony are wrong to include that very familiar phrase. in fact, i was really touched when a dear friend's mom replied "her father and i do" when the female officiant uttered the question a couple of months ago. my friend's dad passed away a few months before her wedding and it was a wonderful way of including him in the very special occasion.

i'm a big fan of making your own choices and am grateful to live at a time in history when my choices, needs and opinions are as valid as his, especially since we'll be legally bound to each other in about a week. women before me sacrificed themselves in order for women to have the same rights as men today. unfortunately, we're still not there... feminism seems like an odd subject to tackle just days before my wedding but it actually feels appropriate.

it's simple really. feminism is about equality and supporting other people's personal choices. there's always a debate about being a stay-at-home vs a working mom. why? no one questions when dads go to work. in fact, there's an expectation for a man to provide. why? maybe he wants to stay home with the kids and she wants to go back to work. it's up to them. not you. not me. not us... unless, of course, we're the couple in question.

in my ideal world, i'm an award winning actress in demand for my work in film, stage and television, and loving wife and mother to happy, healthy children, while fraser runs our household. i've shared my vision with my future husband whose only concern is not having time to go to the gym. we agreed to hire a nanny and a housekeeper. problem solved.

feminism does not equate man hating. i adore men and am completely in love with one, who may decide he doesn't want to be a stay-at-home husband after all. that's okay! we can always figure out something else keeping in mind what would be best for us and our family when the time comes.

look. i can be as girly as they come. i wear short shorts. i put on make up. i like to feel pretty... i think it's nice that fraser opens the door for me and pays when we go out. i've been the girlfriend who paid for everything and one who didn't ever pay. i pick up our groceries and open doors for him when i get there first. i watch football. domestic violence angers and saddens me. i don't drink beer. i like tequila. fraser doesn't drink at all. i make breakfast for us every morning and do our laundry. i never take out the trash. fraser does a lot of the cleaning and cooks amazing dinners... when asked who wears the pants in our relationship for the newly wed game at my bridal shower, fraser proudly told my friends that we each have a leg in; i said i did after running everything by him. close enough.

i support gay marriage, pro-choice and equally respect stay-at-home moms and women who choose not to have children to be business owners, doctors, hourly employees, teachers, receptionist, chefs, dancers, writers, actors, engineers, yogis, musicians, inventors, bakers, designers, directors, grips, assistants, executives, comics, whatever... i respect and admire women who to do both... the thing is, people doing the same job with the same experience and qualifications should earn the same wage/salary regardless of gender, race, religion and sexual orientation. period.

am i a feminist? abso-fucking-lutely.

am i hyphenating my name because i'm a feminist? hell no.

i'm hyphenating my name because i love my last name and, thanks to the women who fought for gender equality, i have a choice. i'm also marrying a man who supports whatever decision i make. almost makes me want to straight up take his name, which i really like... maybe i will... probably not but whatever i do will be up to me no matter how often i ask for fraser's opinion, which i appreciate and value.

my choice is equal to his.
i am worth as much as him.
our marriage will be a partnership.

hells yeah. i'm a feminist... and i'm gonna look stunning on my wedding day.

looking in the mirror

my older sister gave me a hard time the other day for leaving a painting (an original by her husband, who gave it to me for my college graduation years ago) with beamer when i moved out a year a half ago, so i called beamer on a whim and left a voicemail. i'd sent a text about the painting weeks before and didn't get a response; i was genuinely surprised when he called me back just minutes later.

me: hi, beamer.

beamer: hey. congratulations!

me: what? 

beamer: i heard you got engaged. congratulations!

me: oh. yeah. i did. thank you. congratulations on getting married!

beamer: yeah. well. i guess hell froze over.

we went on with pleasantries, eventually got around to the painting (which he promised to locate and give back to me), and somehow ended up talking about my upcoming wedding. while it was a nice conversation, it was surreal even as i was having it. even more strange is the fact that fraser was driving us home from lunch as it all happened. it felt like a circle completing itself into fullness just over a month before i become mrs fraser.

i have dreamed about my wedding since i was a wee little girl: what i would wear, where it would be, what music would play... even in my twenties, i only ever thought about the day of and how magical it would be. thankfully, i've evolved since those fairy tale dreams and recognize that the days leading up to the wedding and the days after are just as important as the day i legally commit to spend the rest of my life with someone. maybe even more so. 

the past couple of years has been one of self discovery and transformation. the past couple months have been a self-imposed study of the lessons i've learned from past relationships as fraser and i navigate the delicate balance of planning a wedding and simultaneously being good partners to each other... i am admittedly much more patient with, nurturing to and understanding of fraser because of my experiences with my exes. i've made a lot of mistakes and, in the process, have learned three tangible truths about relationships.

apologizing. i took pride in not saying i was sorry in past relationships even after i realized i was wrong. instead, i would change the subject and pretend it never happened. whichever ex i had wronged would be so relieved i was no longer going to war that he went along with sweeping my mistake under the rug. after years of not taking responsibility for whatever injustice i caused, i felt entitled to their shallow apologies and they, in turn, resented my arrogance... unfortunately, not apologizing was something i learned from watching my mom. it's a damaging downside to being raised surrounded by strong-willed, stubborn women. i grew up believing that apologizing is a sign of weakness. that to apologize is to concede. to give up power... i didn't understand that taking responsibility for a false accusation, a flash of jealousy, a moment of insecurity, would bring me closer to my partner. by being vulnerable and open and apologizing when i'm wrong, i allow fraser to get to know me better and help him understand how i need to be loved.

fighting. i loved fighting with my exes in my twenties because all that energy felt like passion. back then, i wholeheartedly believed fighting was part of a healthy relationship and fueled each one with references to things that happened in the past. without a second thought, i not only judged my exes in the moment, i also made sure they remembered every terrible thing they'd done. i knew which buttons to push and i strategically poked at my exes until we were both so emotionally exhausted that neither of us even remembered what started the battle... fraser and i have yet to have a full on fight, which would've made me feel uneasy ten years ago, and it's awesome. we talk about our disagreements. because we're not afraid of being judged, fraser and i openly explain our point of view. we don't always agree with each other and agree to disagree when we don't. being right is not nearly as important as respecting the fact that we will have different opinions, ideas and ways of doing things. what fraser thinks is as valid as my own thoughts and visa versa.

listening. as an actor, listening is a must in order to stay in the moment and not get distracted by your own thoughts. turns out, the same principle applies in life... in the midst of a heated argument, i often stop listening and focus only on being heard. i'd raise my voice to top my exes' and he'd do the same until we'd crescendo into a cacophony of unheard explanations and attacks until we'd both be screaming at the top of our lungs desperately trying to be heard. it's devastating. even after a bandaid solution is met, the hurtful words would echo inside our heads eventually making their way into our hearts... listening forces you back in the moment. it demands that you stop your own thoughts and focus on what your partner is saying. 

after a sleepless night several months ago, i was failing to articulate why i was so upset as fraser sat at our dining room table for breakfast with me. 

me: i don't know... you know what? forget it... it's fine. i'll fix it...

fraser: (gently says my name then)... don't end the conversation just because you don't know what to say. we need to figure this out.

as i looked back into a set of eyes that saw my vulnerability and chose to protect instead of expose it, i thanked god, the universe or whoever is in charge, for a man who did not shy away from communicating even when it's not easy. who listened to me as i carefully revealed myself. who encouraged me to make him understand... when i first started dating fraser, i was in awe of how much he remembered. even after years of dating, my exes forgot dates, plans and random facts pertaining me. i guess they weren't really listening... i cannot express how wonderful it is to be heard, to be listened to, to be so important that fraser knows my friends' names and our history before he even meets them.

really looking at yourself can be difficult. a year and a half ago, a defeated face stared back at me. a year ago, determination took over as i began dating again. six months later, giddy in love, a smiling face greeted me whenever i caught my reflection. in the midst of wedding plans just two months ago, conversations i had with fraser put mirrors in front of me that i couldn't ignore. the reflections were hard to swallow.

while i never pointed fingers at beamer for our breakup, i did so because i felt like i was taking the high road. the past couple of months have made me truly recognize my part in the whole ordeal, especially when fraser himself told me he wouldn't have wanted to marry someone who never apologized, fought to win and didn't listen. his words were not meant to hurt me. they never are. still, his words felt like blows to my heart as i finally understood my role in breaking beamer's heart. after talking to him the other day, i felt a sense of peace. it had been almost a year since i heard his voice and i was relieved that my heart did not ache. i wish him well (i wish all of my exes well); i hope he's happier than he sounds. it felt good to end the conversation and come back to the present moment with fraser, who is as flawed as i am but perfect for me all the same. he brings out the best version of me by loving me exactly as i come.

i don't know anything about being married, but i'm so glad fraser is the person i'll be learning with for the rest of my life.

wedding 101

i've been saving money for my wedding for years. by the time fraser proposed, i would've been able to throw the wedding my ten-old-year self always dreamed of: beautiful catholic church, hundreds of guests, looking stunning in a gorgeous, heavily beaded gown with a train fit for a queen, reception at a great hall with a dj and dancing all night after a delicious sit down dinner... in the fantasy wedding of my ten-year-old self, i was in my early twenties and would've readily become mrs. looksgoodonpaper.

while that wedding would have been beautiful and possibly even right for me fifteen years ago, the one i planned for october is far from the grand fairy tale i dreamed of as a child and much more suited for the woman i am today. it's no secret that weddings are expensive and there's no way i'd blow my entire wedding fund in one day. no way. i am much too frugal/smart for that but did take a little less than half of it out to work with.

after going to a couple of destination weddings over the past few years, i decided that that would be the way to go: small, intimate and wouldn't cost me my firstborn child. once fraser had my family's unanimous approval, i started throwing ideas around with him, my siblings, my close friends... yes. all before he proposed (i had no doubt it would happen sooner than later)... it took me two weeks to make deposits on everything, pick out two dresses and his suit, and get a rough idea of who could make it after fraser got down on one knee. a month later, i am merely writing checks for balances on villas, beach wedding planners and a boat.

this is what i learned:

compromising. initially, i wanted us to spend a week in mexico, jamaica or the dominican republic with family and close friends; we'd get married on the beach and have dinner somewhere nice. because i cannot imagine getting married without my entire immediate family of twelve (parents, siblings, nieces and nephews), we settled on cocoa beach, florida, where we can still get married on the beach and take everyone out for dinner somewhere nice afterwards. my nieces and nephews wouldn't need passports; orlando offers theme parks galore for guests with children and is perfect for potterheads (me!); and more people could come... decide what's most important to you and work around that. for me, having my dad walk me down the aisle is a must along with having my mom, sisters, brothers, nieces and nephews there; the fact that fraser's mom and family are coming is a wonderful bonus.

splurging. i'm much better at saving money than spending it, but sometimes you just have to splurge on yourself. with years of waiting tables under my belt, i realized quickly that taking 40-50 people out to dinner would require a reservation, likely in a private room, which could turn our nice dinner into a reception. there were places to accommodate us that would forgo the reception (i don't want one), but, once i saw the boat, there was no going back. a private sunset dinner cruise sounded awesome, so that's what we're doing... i also wanted everyone to stay close together for the week, so we're paying for two villas to accommodate up to 35 of our guests. i am the last of my siblings, my cousins, my many groups of friends, to get married, so this is a big deal for my extended family, who have been invested in my happiness for the various years we've been part of each other's lives.

delegating. fraser would happily marry me in our living room, reminding me often that he wouldn't love me any more or less based on our wedding day. this is your dream, baby. do what you want. that said, i discussed our options with him before i decided on anything and put him in charge of making final decisions on our invitations, which bells is making for us. he agrees with most of what i come up with but is very clear when he does not like something, which i honor and appreciate... i have yet to meet his family but asked his mom and sister to take care of anything that has to do with our guest book because they wanted to help... doing anything by yourself can get overwhelming. even with fraser, my siblings and close friends to bounce ideas off of, i still needed to count to ten and breathe sometimes. it's totally okay, even necessary, to reach out and ask for help. also, people generally love weddings and want to help you.

making choices. there's an infinite amount of options out there. you can lose hours, even days, just looking through never-ending sites on gowns, dresses, color schemes, invitations... my approach? pick one and move on. i went to a bridal store, figured out what size i wore in their brand, went home and ordered two wedding dresses online; i found gowns on sale in the silhouettes i liked in the store... once i made a decision about the dress, the villas, the beach wedding planners and the dinner cruise, i didn't look back. okay. fine. i still look at wedding dresses online and find ones that are gorgeous, but i don't think about replacing the one i already have... fraser and i need to put this in practice as we come up with our wedding registries, which is a whole other thing.

not sweating the small stuff. our wedding has been really easy to plan. things have a way of coming together for us, sure, but we are also hyper aware of the fact that it's one day; there have been many before it and will be many more after. as awesome as we want it to be, we're doing the best we can to keep it about us and having our loved ones be a part of it. no one will remember that i was barefoot and he wasn't or what font was used on our invitations (sorry, bells)... we're getting married in florida on a wednesday. the beach wedding people we hired only provide up to 40 chairs for the ceremony; we may have our siblings stand up as our bridal party to make room for eight more guests if we have to. there are people we invite who won't be able to come and even more that we simply do not have room for... i sent emails to my closest friends about it knowing that they would understand; honestly, i wouldn't be friends with someone who wouldn't... my hope is that they remember our wedding week as a happy, laid-back, do-what-you-want, laugh everyday experience.

my ten-year-old self would be ecstatic to know that i am marrying a man who makes me laugh, believes in my dreams, supports my passions, respects my choices, treats me as an equal and loves me beyond measure. that we're paying for everything upfront. that we're celebrating for a whole week... she may wonder why i've chosen to hyphenate my name... all the other stuff is secondary.

... except maybe for the looking stunning part. she'd still want that.

random tuesday

most of what i've written about this past year has been my journey after a painful breakup. bells encouraged me to write about starting to date again in my mid-30s. what it's like, how i approached it, all the stories that came along with it... i haven't written in a couple months because i haven't had much to share. i'm back in a monogamous relationship with an incredible man i met online. fraser and i have no drama. we have none of that toxic energy i used to think was passion in my twenties. i'm happy being with one man which translates to not having anything to say about dating anymore. we found each other and inspire those around us to throwup in their mouths a little with how well we get along.

mrpretty told me recently that when he asked friends of his who have been happily married for several years how they keep their relationship happy and healthy, they told him that they have manners. they always say please and thank you... sounds so simple but it's so important. fraser insists that we always speak to each other kindly, which is not always easy to do, especially when i'm hungry or tired or upset. that said, i've found that telling him exactly how i feel about any given situation, good or bad, can be done without a fight. i used to think fighting is part of being in a balanced relationship but am starting to buy into this whole communicating calmly idea. don't get me wrong, i get totally annoyed sometimes and, when i do, i tell him in the moment or soon after. he does the same with me... we listen. like saying please and thank you, listening makes a world of difference.

having a healthy relationship boils down to both people going into it whole, knowing who they are and what they want, and committing to it. fraser was not a good boyfriend to his exes because of his own demons; i always tried to be a good girlfriend but had baggage of my own to deal with. we each worked on ourselves before we met. fraser finally deciding to make different choices in his life; me, holed up at home, reading self-help books and writing in journals and making phone calls to various friends. by the time we sat across from each other on our first date last october, we loved ourselves, knew we were worthy and were ready to reveal our true selves to whoever was open to seeing it.

eight months later, back at the same restaurant after sharing happy hour appetizers again at the same table we sat at that tuesday night last fall, fraser asked me to marry him. even in that cliche restaurant ambiance, it could not have been more perfect... our server caught it on video (i thought fraser had asked him to take our photo until he turned me away from our server to face him); fraser could barely get the words out and i swore like a sailor. i said yeah... yes! people clapped. fraser turned to smile at them after we hugged and kissed as a few more profanities escaped my lips, my eyes glued to my gorgeous engagement ring.

i've always thought of engagement rings as a physical representation of how a man sees his partner. mine is a unique, art deco piece with a sapphire on either side of the center diamond. it's beautiful from all angles; he could not have chosen a more perfect ring for me... i get teary eyed when i look at it. if my ring, which he picked out, had set and sized just hours before he proposed, is how fraser sees me, then i must be pretty awesome. i love that he couldn't wait to ask me to marry him.

when i decided to move on with my life a year and a half ago, i was very clear about what i was looking for: i wanted to be with someone who'd love me for who i am and be excited to marry me and have babies with me. i wanted someone who'd see the beauty in my flaws, support my passions and believe in my dreams. i wanted someone who my family would approve of... i wanted someone who would know better than to propose to me on a holiday like christmas (why?), valentine's day (puke!) or my birthday (lame!). i wanted someone to propose to me on a random tuesday.

he proposed last tuesday. 

we're getting married in october. a year from the day we met... barefoot on the beach.