Before the wedding: learn to say you're sorry

         "Love means never having to say you're sorry" ? --as if.

I perform hundreds of civil weddings each year for the Los Angeles Registrar-Recorder/County Clerk's office, and just when I think I've seen everything somebody walks in our door and surprises me. 

These are not always pleasant surprises--I am reminded of one brawling couple that had to be physically separated by a security guard at the marriage license window--but it does keep the job interesting, and Clerk's office war stories can be just as entertaining as the lovey-dovey ones.

Once in a great while, I get to be part of a ceremony that's surprising and wonderful, even educational.  Last week I witnessed such a wedding. 

This love story certainly didn't start out auspiciously; in fact, I had just arrived at the Clerk's office to hear one of the marriage license cashiers exclaim, "MAN! That lady had a MAJOR PROBLEM!"  The cashier recounted the exchange she had just had with a bride who was verbally abusive to her and raged at her fiance while at the window, indescribably rude and furious with them both. 

Then the cashier handed me their marriage license--they were the first couple on my wedding roster.   Uh-oh.

This woman certainly wasn't the picture of a happy, excited bride.  As I let her party into the chapel, her eyes locked on mine with a fierce, stone-like gaze of fuming defiance.  She was not an insubstantial girl, a good foot taller than me, and a redhead--far from the least intimidating bride I've ever worked with.  The groom was subdued but smiling, much to my relief; perhaps the security guard wouldn't be needed this time.  Other family members bustled in and as I settled the couple in front of my podium and entered their data into the ceremony register, I resolved to somehow turn this one around. 

And turn around it did, though credit must be given to the bride herself for the reversal.

At the Clerk's office I have fifteen minutes with a couple from start to finish--ushering them in, documenting the ceremony, performing the wedding, obtaining witness signatures (which can take a while, because many of the families we serve don't speak English as a first language and are often barely literate.)  Everyone wants to take a few photos, and I quickly explain about technicalities like marriage certificates and name changes while smiling for the camera.  Then I have to kick that wedding party out and let the next one in, right away.  After four hours and an average of sixteen weddings (with maybe a couple emergency ceremonies thrown in) I'm pretty drained.

Regardless, I do everything I can to make the most of that fifteen minutes and provide a few words that will send a couple on their way not only legally married, but more appreciative of this gift of love and commitment they've given each other.  With all these couples I take a few moments to explain, simply, the definition of the vow they will make: the time-honored pledge to love, honor, cherish, respect, and be faithful to one another, come what may.  I also tell them they can add a few personal words to each other during the ceremony if they feel moved to do so--after all, it is their wedding. 

As I began explaining the vow to this scary bride and her forbearing groom, I made cautious but consistent eye contact with them both, trying to sink this message home (though meeting that bride's evil eye was rather daunting.)  As the wedding progressed, I could see her posture soften slightly as she absorbed the words about making this marriage a priority in their lives (honoring) and showing tenderness to each other (cherishing.)  She even smiled once or twice, briefly; I felt a small flicker of hope that she wouldn't kill me.

When I turned to "respect"--emphasizing how important it is to accept our spouse's complete and imperfect humanity with kindness, and to be mindful always how we treat each other even when we're very upset with each other--her face, no longer frozen in a rigid, defensive mask, twisted a little with sorrow, and the tears gathered in her eyes.  Not wanting to rush her moments of emotion, I took a breath before I said, "Now I'm going to ask you for the consent that will make this official, so please answer truthfully," and she suddenly blurted, "When do we get to say something personal?" and I said, "Well, many people add something at the moment of their vows, or after..."  "Can I say something NOW?" she asked insistently.   "Of course," I responded.

Without hesitation she turned to her husband-to-soon-be and offered loudly and clearly, "I'm sorry I've been so difficult all day, I'm sorry I said this was a stupid thing to do, and I'm sorry I've been so angry and mean to you."  With his same gentle smile, the groom responded with two words: "That's okay."  They melted into long, tearful embrace.  No more needed to be said.

We present waited in silence, in wonder.   An open heart is a magical thing, and I admit I allowed myself a moment of feeling pleased: pleased that the bride had been brave enough to rise to the occasion, and pleased that now she seemed much less likely to assault me.

After a few conciliatory kisses were exchanged, I resumed by saying, "Good for you, and I'm so glad to see this, because you know what? You have to say you're sorry A LOT when you're married!"  We all laughed, and then I had the great pleasure receiving their consent to be married and pronouncing them husband and wife, all of us now smiling, their pact sealed with a lingering, cherishing kiss and enthusiatic applause.

Yes, it may sound funny to say during a wedding, but it's true: realizing you've messed up and saying you're sorry is a mandatory skill for a healthy marriage.  Humans aren't perfect--we must acknowledge and learn to abide with each other's imperfections, rather than denying or hectoring each other about them--and if we think we seem more perfect because we refuse to admit we're wrong....we need to think again. 

Holding grudges won't help with household harmony either, nor will being vicious when you're angry with each other.  Learning to own up to mistakes and let go of anger and resentment quickly is key to a happy, peaceful life together (as any longtime married couple will tell you.)  Therefore, that promise to be respectful means that, if you have a temper, you must learn to tame it for the sake of your own and your partner's well-being.  Otherwise, you're not going to make it.  Too much harm will be inflicted and you can only make someone bleed so much before they'll seek a more peaceful and less painful life elsewhere.

It was important for this bride to say she was sorry before she took that vow to be loving, tender, and respectful towards her spouse.  This vow clearly meant a lot to her, and she wanted her conscience and her heart to be focused on love at the moment of her marriage to her beloved.  I commend them both for wisely choosing peace over pride, love over rage.  My hope is that she'll remember the difference between the power she felt when she was angry and overbearing versus the power of her moment of reconciliation--and opt for the latter whenever she can. 

And so may we all. 

Until next time, and sweet and long life to you. 

National Wedding and Marriage Examiner Elizabeth Oakes welcomes your feedback at weddingexaminer@gmail.com; please share this story or subscribe by clicking on the Tweet This! button at the top of this column or the "Share This!" button below, or read more of Elizabeth's stories by clicking here.

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