This just in… modern newlyweds are increasingly dealing with “the bridal blues.” Doctors report that the expectations of newlyweds are so high, and married life such a letdown after all the planning and excitement of the big day, that an increasing number of brides are suffering post-nuptial depression. The feelgood factor fades so fast that up to 10 per cent of couples suffer enough remorse, sadness or frustration to seek counseling.
Wow. You mean it wasn’t whispy clouds and fairy dust as you lived happily ever after? And Franck Eggelhoffer isn’t there to plan the details of your marriage like he did your wedding? And Daddy’s not there to pay your bills? And sex doesn’t cure everything, or come with an orchestra in your bedroom? And to add insult to injury, you find yourself married to a sometimes-sweaty, stinky boy, who leaves socks and underwear on the floor? Or to a woman, who – get this – ain’t yo’ mamma, your maid, or your madame? She’s no Cinderella, and you’re not exactly Prince Charming.
Those expectations take you for a ride sometimes, don’t they?
Dr. Terry Eagan has a name for post-wedding depression. He calls it the secret sadness. Why? Because the women who suffer from it are often too embarrassed to tell anybody. And men simply bottle up their feelings.
The Secret Sadness is real. And it isn’t limited to newlyweds. [click to continue…]
Somewhere in the back story of the drama that is your life, you are rehearsing a Cinderella story. One that transforms you from zero to hero, from reject to regal. You imagined it as a kid in ways that were unique to you. This dream may have been fed by caring parents, or it may have been an escape from the harshness of your world.
Simply put, you dreamed of glory.
Not vainglory, mind you. Something more. An image that said you mattered. Belonged. Were wonderfully adequate for the role you’d been chosen – for your quest.
Then came the collision. Dreams were broadsided by disappointments. You never quite figured out how to translate that high school stardom into a career or a destiny. Or worse, you actually found your place in the world, but stared in the mirror at a fraud. Maybe you got what (or who) you’d always wanted, and you bombed. Maybe you just settled into paying the bills and keeping house, and woke up a generation later wondering what happened.
Sometimes I think our greatest fear or vulnerability isn’t the evil we’re all capable of. What we most dread or most grieve is that we’re just so ordinary. [click to continue…]
A Turning Point Story
This is for all you jocks, coach dads, and soccer moms out there who never were in the band or had a kid in one. Other than my year of football futility, the primary point of my non-academic energy was spent in the band. And during football season, I got to wear the fuzzy hat. Yep, I was the drum major – the band’s field director during my junior and senior year.
The high point of marching season was traveling to either the Florida or Mississippi coast to participate in a regional band contest. Can you imagine the energy, the excitement that fills a stadium when more than 30 bands gather and perform, with no football team in sight for miles? Unlike football games, where half the crowd heads for the concession stands, at a contest people in the stands cheer loudly for every slick move, every powerful burst through the line. And did I mention that there isn’t a football team in sight?
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