Thursday, May 31, 2007
Quick
How I learned to stop worrying and love the da bomb
By Caren West
Photographer Angela Morris modeling for charity at the La Monza Fashion Show at Dillards' seconds after da bomb was dropped on Caren.
CREDIT: Caren West |
It’s always interesting when you find out an old flame is getting married. A few weeks ago, I had the “Your ex is getting married” bomb dropped on me while innocently enjoying hotties working the runway for the charity-driven La Monza Fashion Show at Dillard’s in Atlantic Station.
I attended the event with my longtime business associate and friend who blurted out, “Oh my God! Can you believe that (insert name of ex here) got engaged and then unengaged?” Diverting his attention back to the runway for a second, he then turned to me and said, “You think they’ll get married, right? I do.” There was no mistaking the wistful, “I really hope it works out” tone in his voice.
Without skipping a beat, I said, “No, actually, I didn’t know any of that.” Of course, right on cue, my mind conjured up a vision of my ex and his fiancé (whom I’ve never met or seen) walking hand-in-hand down the aisle and I felt a stinging sensation in my heart, throat and stomach. And even though I was in a momentary state of shock, which made me feel über girly, the pragmatic side of me wondered why I even cared, especially since I’d assumed he was already married—not to mention, at the end of the day, we just weren’t right for each other.
Unfortunately, I fell victim to a thing I like to call “being human” and even though I had already compartmentalized my ex by presuming that he was living in matrimonial bliss—white picket fence and all—the news still caught me off-guard. I still get a text or an e-mail from him from time to time, but after two years into his relationship with his future Mrs., she put the kibosh on our eight-year friendship.
Of course, when he informed me about the edict, I told him he needed to grow a pair, but I also had to respect that he made a decision to do whatever it took to make his new relationship work—even if it meant excising me from his life. A few years have passed and I figured that I was no longer a soar subject, so I shot him a text: “Heard you got engaged and unengaged. Everything OK?”
He wrote me back, thanking me for reaching out and explaining that they were engaged, unengaged and engaged again. The wedding was set for July. He also added that it was a hard a decision to make—figuring out who you want to spend the rest of your life with. Then it hit me again: that heart, stomach and throat thing. This time, though, it was because he said the words “rest of your life,” which made my head spin. The phrase echoed through my mind, reminding me that I completely lack the marriage gene, and that I’m so afraid of commitment that I once had panic attack in the middle of my best friend’s wedding.
Shortly after discovering that my ex was tying the knot, I attended my friend, Atlanta-based comedian, Tim Miller’s wedding. I sat in the back of the church, squeezing the hand off my date and taking in slow, deep breaths. Despite my looming anxiety, I found myself enjoying the ceremony, which was sweet and poignant. I even shed a tear.
The reception was a backyard barbecue meets garden party. Everyone drank keg beer, ate burgers and toasted the bride and groom before an impromptu drunken whiffle ball game broke out in the church parking lot. Somehow the casualness of the affair and the sincerity of the bride and groom made the whole thing less scary to a commitment-phobe like me.
Maybe how I view marriage, relationships, business from now on is as simple as applying one of Martin Luther King Jr.’s philosophies to my outlook: “Take the first step in faith. You don’t have to see the whole staircase, just take the first step.”
When not attending Atlanta's hottest parties, tracking down celebs or shopping for shoes, Caren West runs her own PR firm. E-mail her at carenwest@sundaypaper.com.