Hi, and welcome back to the 10th issue of In Pursuit of Quality.
I need to tell you about something exciting this week. I got married!
It was the day after Thanksgiving, Black Friday here in the U.S., and I had the fortune to tie the knot with my partner for the past fifteen years. He's now my husband, I write through moistened eyelashes.
It was a ceremony of pure quality over quantity. One that got me thinking about how quality in life arises when we let go of preconceived expectations; when we allow ourselves to do what's right for us, not what's right for other people. Let me explain.
Neither me nor my husband are big wedding people. My dad was married six times (one was a repeat marriage, but still) and my mom's a lesbian. So, the whole institution rings a bit hollow for me. My husband is a dedicated non-conformist, a trait of his I've always admired. These things, and more, led us to the City Clerk's office in Manhattan to exchange our vows.
No Expectations.
To its credit, the New York City courts did not conform to the cliches of governmental inefficiency. The ceremony itself took less than a minute and, even with all the photos and form-filling, we were in and out of the courthouse in an hour! Our two closest friends were our witnesses. We came in with zero expectations of how exactly things would unfold, so everything that did happen was a happy surprise.
And, as it turns out, this is exactly what we wanted!
We celebrated with our friends after the ceremony. Then, we had an exceptional dinner alone at one of our neighborhood favorites. Other friends and family couldn't believe we kept the whole thing so quiet and low key. But this, too, was exactly what we wanted.
Why were people surprised?
I think it has to do with assumptions about what "marriage" is supposed to look like.
Wedding Economics.
The marriage-industrial complex in America topped $70 billion in 2022. That's seventy billion dollars in search of ideals that are rarely met. Venues and catering, photography, music, flowers, decor, attire, transportation, stationery, party favors, cake; all the other bells and whistles. And these don't include the emotional costs of crash dieting, anxiety medication, and dealing with your mother and/or mother-in-law.
This isn't to say that typically elaborate weddings suck. But, when you add it all up, they're often about quantity—more, more more—on a day that's really about quality life outcomes. On top of the expense itself, it's always stressful when plans, inevitably, don't go off exactly as envisioned.
So, Is this all part of a collective illusion?1 Do we pump energy into "the perfect wedding" because it's what we really want? Or do we do it because it's what we think other people expect from us?
I admit writing this with insecurity and vulnerability. My fear is that people will think something like: well, this isn't a real marriage—it's a union between two men. Well, sorry, but fuck that. Marriage is a bonafide institution. And like all institutions it exists so that we can achieve outcomes we're not able to achieve on our own. Girl to boy; girl to girl; boy to boy. None of this changes the meaning nor impact of the institution.
Shared Values.
Our institution of marriage is about living according to our shared, personal values. For us, it's never been about what society tells us we should or can or must do. There's so much power in that. Not just for me or us, but for everyone.
We've been told for so long that more is always better—in money, in ownership, and even in wedding ceremonies. I think that's wrong. More isn't better; better is better. Our marriage rituals were never going to be about quantity. But I can't tell how much joy it brings me that our wedding was the epitome of quality though and though.
An unexpected outcome of eloping at the courthouse was the electric atmosphere of a room full of gleaming strangers sharing one of their lives' happiest days together, in community with others. Our friend and witness, Meg, said it might be her favorite wedding ever. And maybe it's no coincidence that we exchanged vows on Black Friday, a day dedicated to accumulating stuff instead of memories. Or maybe that was just a fortunate accident.
Regardless, we made Black Friday our own. That day has now taken on a deeper quality of meaning for both of us.
This week's post is dedicated to my husband, Chris, who knows what a quality life means more than anyone I know.
With warmth, respect, and gratitude.
A “collective illusion” is a situation where most people in a group go along with an opinion they don’t agree with, simply because they incorrectly believe that the majority also agrees with it.
Congratulations! Great article. Wishing you both much happiness
Yessss! Best Black Friday ever. This is just lovely. As a fellow non-conformist, this warms my heart. I've officiated several weddings, and I find the more formal, the less intimate. I was always surprised when I asked the couples what was the most important thing about the wedding. The answers would be the venue, the guests, the food... quantity quantity quantity. It's about making a commitment to each other, in front of the people you care about. The quality is in the commitment. Bravo!