I used to be eager for the holidays to arrive. Family, good food, presents, and no worries. Now I’ve grown. The three hour drive seems to draw out, my stomach hurts after the rich food, I’m too old for presents, and the world seems to grow darker by each day. My family is still family… But you know how it goes. Casual hateful comments grow tiresome after explaining time and time again that “no you can’t say men are better than women” and “no I don’t want to drive in your truck that has confederate and Trump flags hanging off the back” and “no the election was not stolen” and “no trans people are not pedophiles”. It makes sense when you realize that isolated town is 99.9% white, and the only church in town is Catholic. 

When my family asks me “how’s school going? What are you majoring in again?” I tend to change my answer from person to person. For my bigoted uncle, something in agriculture. To my slightly less bigoted cousin, sustainable agriculture. To my sweet as pie aunt married to the bigoted uncle, environmental studies. For my 11 year old cousin with her innocence yet preserved, environmental humanities. She reminds me of how I used be. She gorges on sweets and grasshopper milkshakes that my grandpa makes. Rips open her piles of presents with gusto and poses for the paparazzi of cameras flashing at her. I am an environmentalist for her, and for the generations that come after me.

In the end it doesn’t matter the answer I tell them. They will forget, and the next time, we’ll have the exact same conversation. 

“How’s school going?”

“Good.”

It’s often said to never explore the woods at night. I didn’t think too much about the specifics. I wouldn’t let some fake stories keep me from roaming. However, I am much more careful after a fateful night a few years ago.

I was staring at the ceiling, listening to my clock’s thoughtful ticking. That’s often when I get the itch to wander into the unfamiliar woods behind my house. I never had the desire to walk around during the day, but the silence of the evening and echo of the clock forced my body out of bed. That specific night in late October, when the leaves rustled and shook with each breeze, I stretched my bones and walked into the darkness. What a fool I was. Breaking into the unrecognizable and dense brush, the wind stalled, and all that hung in the air was the sound of my breathing. I tried to move silently, my feet barely brushing against the ground. Those towering trees seemed to loom over me. The deafening stillness was cut by an indistinct murmur. My heart stopped and I could hear the pounding of blood in my ears. It grew louder, and it almost seemed to laugh at me. Combing through the tops of the trees with only the light of the crescent moon, I spotted a bird. Or what I thought was a bird. My God, That vile thing was like no creature I had’d ever seen before. It resembled an owl with its round face, yet it had the brooding frame of a vulture. Its talons sunk into the branch of the tree it was hanging on. Fear paralyzed me. I tried to turn, to run, to scream, but I couldn’t look away. The creature’s face was almost humanlike, with its big dark eyes and broad beak and its call was no different. Almost as if it was impersonating a man chuckling. Not once did it break eye contact or cower. It must have only been a few seconds before its snicker abruptly stopped, and it became uninterested. Its great wings fluttered open and it flew off.

I wouldn’t say I’m scared to go back into the woods, but I definitely frequent them less. On those helpless nights where the clock ticks away, that creature creeps into the back of my mind and I feel the same paralyzing fear.

While looking around to find a subject for this week’s blog post, I came across countless weddings, dresses, and houses (and A LOT more Disney adults than I would’ve expected). I have, of course, heard of this term before, a “fairy tale wedding”. But I had never expected to see pages and pages of inspiration and an entire culture built upon this idea. I fell down this niche rabbit hole of fairy tale and Disney themed weddings. There were websites, and articles dedicated to planning a picture perfect fairytale inspired wedding. Disney has an entire 2 season long show called “Disney’s Fairy Tale Weddings” that documents different couples’ magical night and the process leading up to it.

Plan Your Snow Fairy-Tale Wedding! Dreaming of Planning the Perfect Winter Wedding? Why Wait for Spring or Summer, When You Can Take Advantage of Chilly Climates to Plan Your Big Day!” Asiana TV, https://asiana.tv/wedding/planning/plan-your-snow-fairy-tale-wedding/

I have never understood this idealization of big expensive weddings. It seems like just another thing that is pushed upon young girls to dream and look forward to. Countless times over family dinners, I’ve been told “one day you’re going to get married to a good man and have kids”! It always comes from a place of love, but it only made me conscious of all the things I could do wrong. Not only that, but it ultimately made me hate the idea of having a big wedding. It’s supposed to be the best day of your life, but shouldn’t every day with that person make you feel that way? I think instilling the idea that the only way to make your marriage special is to have a fairy tale wedding is harmful to more kids than people realize. Has anyone else had similar experiences to this? Did it have a positive or negative impact on your ideas about marriage?