Our theme for the month of March is “I was wrong about.”

I was wrong about small weddings…for me, at least.

After basically living out the plot of 27 Dresses (with far less dramatics), I got married to my best friend last week. Prior to our engagement, we toyed around with the idea of an elopement, or even a small wedding with just our immediate families. From walking through wedding planning with my sister and seeing the behind-the-scenes with my friends, I witnessed firsthand how the industry trades all your hard-earned dollars in exchange for just ten hours of (hopeful) bliss.

Another minor issue: we both hate being the center of attention, and all those eyes on us sounded like a nightmare.

But once we got engaged and looped in our loved ones, I had a sneaking suspicion we would end up having a full blown wedding. The day we visited our venue, the vision came together crystal clear. Despite arguing on the drive there (Nashville traffic is not for the faint of heart), we immediately fell in love with the chapel. We knew how much people wanted to celebrate with us, and we finally felt like we wanted to invite everyone into our story.

The planning process was still an adventure, we’ll say. I have since declared I will not be making a single decision for at least a month if I can help it. Between vendor communications, budgeting, keeping track of timelines, and actually preparing for marriage, it is basically a second full-time job. We questioned our choice dozens of times, wondering if all the hours and compromises would be worth it in the end. As the day drew closer, we hoped that somewhere between gathering RSVPs and the hours spent scouring Facebook Marketplace for napkins, it would all miraculously come together.

And I must say, walking into our venue the morning of our wedding was a feeling I’ll remember forever. It surpassed my wildest dreams, and I couldn’t believe it was all for us. The flowers I’d contemplated for months were impossibly whimsical and perfect. Our wedding coordinator was teary-eyed all day (we’d grown to be friends). My dearest friends were making sure I hydrated and ate and stopped to soak it all in. I was blissfully unbothered the whole day and the time absolutely flew—from the 6 a.m. hair and makeup call to walking down the aisle.

At the start of the ceremony, our officiant had us turn and look at our friends and family gathered there with us on that miraculously warm and sunny March day. What a sweet moment to take a deep breath, and to really pause and see who showed up for us. Of our 100 guests, only eight were local. Our people trekked from thirteen different states to sit in the wooden pews for that exact moment. Aside from seeing my groom waiting for me at the end of the aisle, that is the moment that most took my breath away.

It was still a small(er) wedding, but I’m so grateful we decided to share the day with our loved ones. I was happy dancing all day, in awe of the gift of my husband and of everyone gathered from across the country to be in the same room on that Sunday afternoon. The cheer that emanated from the chapel when we were pronounced husband and wife will ring in my head on the inevitable difficult days to come, and every single voice present was instrumental. On this rare instance, I’m thankful to have been so very wrong.

Olivia Harre

Olivia graduated from Calvin in May 2018 with a double major in business and writing. She now works as an editor in Nashville, Tennessee and is eating her way through the restaurants of her new town. She enjoys weekend trips with friends, petting other people’s dogs, and drinking coffee like a Gilmore Girl.