bouquet bride
I spent this past weekend at a wedding on a kiwi preserve in northeastern New Zealand. Like all things up here, it was simple, laid back and beautiful – no phone, no internet, and no worries.

I’d been warned in advance that I would be one of only four single people there. Although I love weddings and am not one to get upset by other’s good fortune, I admit a small part of me was disappointed my chances of meeting a dashingly handsome love-interest were slim. After all, I’d been told by a very insightful healer to expect a miracle on my trip, and love is one heck of a miracle.

But nevertheless, I had a great time getting to know the other guests, laughing with my girlfriends, and seeing my dear friend marry her beloved.

After the ceremony, as we noshed on appetizers before dinner, the conversation turned to who would be next, as if marriage was a lovely disease we’d all succumb to at some point. Without hesitation I said “me”.

Mind you I have no current prospects, but I rarely feel things with as much conviction as I did that statement. It was just the truth. No one argued; how could you?

Then the Universe pulled the most obvious and cheeky trick I’ve seen in awhile. It asked me to prove it.

So when I dutifully lined up for the bride to throw her bouquet, it came straight towards me. And I leapt. The other way…

But the Universe is both responsive and determined, so the bouquet actually hit me. Twice – once on the shoulder and once on the hip – and then landed unceremoniously on the ground next to my feet.

I stared at it, momentarily unable to bend down to pick it up and simultaneously mortified by my response.

Called out in a circle of dozens. More importantly, called out to myself.

Because I’ve known for a while that I don’t want to be in a relationship. But I keep beating the drum of one because it’s what I know how to do. Grow up, find a partner, settle down.

Agreeing to play that game is my attempt at being accepted. My disguise so I’ll be liked and understood and just like everyone else.

Except it isn’t really what my heart says and I know it. It just took being hit with a bouquet to finally admit it. Because no one can deny what my split-second response revealed: I’m not ready. Maybe next month, heck, maybe even next week, but not now.

So the bride threw the bouquet again and the woman who wanted to catch it was carefully placed right out in front. And I took a huge sigh of relief. For one night, with 50 people, I could stop pretending.

But just in case I hadn’t fully gotten the message, the sentiment was captured perfectly while reading the next morning. Gay Hendrick’s asks in The Big Leap: “What am I trying to disown?” or alternatively “What aspect of my life do I need to take full ownership of?

Because the energy you spend avoiding is energy you could spend creating.

So consider today –

Is there something you’re not allowing yourself to feel, know, or be?
What would it feel like to make a different choice?
What would it enable you to do?

Then take a small step towards owning who you really are. Because you’re approval and acceptance is the only one that matters in the end.

Be free. Be brave. Be YOU!