The Cupcake Stand Fight

We've all been there.
Maybe you've coined it with a different term, but I'm convinced this is an argument that is not isolated to my marriage.

The cupcake stand fight.
The awful, tantalizing, trivial-turned-monumental cupcake stand fight.
Let me give you some context here.

Dan and I got engaged the summer of my third year in university after a whopping six months of dating (yes, I said six months!!!). Deciding to have the wedding after my graduation the following year, we had a prolonged period of engagement-nearly a year and a half. (Note- I would now strongly recommend a shorter engagement season, for a variety reasons, some of which I will cover in an upcoming blog!). Needless to say, there was a long lapse of time between the moment I said "yes", and when we were scheduled to say "I Do".

Engagement.
It is a peculiar season. You find yourself in a strange "in-between" transition, moving from dating into a new commitment that you know will radically shift your life and self as a whole. It is a covenant. A devotion to cultivating oneness. And yet, in the season of the engagement, you're not quite there yet. You're not legally, spiritually, and physically bound to the other, and so maneuvering yourself through this season can be challenging and confusing at times.

I know it was for me, anyways.
Engagement is often merely viewed as the number of days it takes to throw an adequate number of showers, create a substantial Pinterest board, execute the DIY chalkboard signs, find the perfect dress, and then lose those last couple of pounds to show it off.

And so, engagement is often approached in quite a superficial manner. It is treated as merely the time it takes to get the checklist done, rather than a season of truly preparing your heart, mind, and life for what comes after the nuptials... You know, the whole reason for the celebration. To be clear, I am not saying it is wrong to commit time, energy, and effort into creating a ceremony and reception that reflects the couple. What I am posing, however, is this question to any brides out there- are you spending more time preparing your centerpieces or your heart ?

So, it is in this tangled web of misconceptions and insignificant details that Dan and I found ourselves in his parents' basement, discussing the dessert buffet at our reception.
I suggested that a wooden cupcake stand would compliment the rustic decor of the wedding. Dan, however, after seeing a picture of my idea, objected to the cupcake stand, arguing that it looked tacky and overstated. Again, I presented my argument for the presence of the stand. Again, he presented his argument against the stand. Rather than interjecting and posing a new direction for the conversation, we both continued in this bantering rebuttal, frustrations rising and tone sharpening.

And so, within a mere 5 minutes, the cupcake stand became the most significant thing in our relationship.

Nothing was more pivotal, more essential, more crucial to the sustenance of our relationship than serving iced cake on a slab of wood.
I had never been so passionate about a cupcake in my life.
In that moment, Dan's desires were secondary to my vehement proclamation that yes, oh yes indeed, would there be a wooden cupcake stand at that dessert buffet.

I recall my mind racing quickly from the dessert to bigger questions. If we can't agree on the display of the dessert, how will we harmoniously maneuver through life together? Why is he so unreasonable? Why does he care so much? DOES HE NOT UNDERSTAND MY DEEP PASSION FOR CUPCAKES?!?!

And then there was Dan's perspective. Why won't she let me make any decisions? Why is she so unwilling to lay down her desires? Why does she care so much about this?
You see, I hadn't known it then, but the cupcake stand was so symbolic for a deeper running issue that was beginning to surface in our relationship, and it had nothing to do with dessert organization or rustic decor. In fact, it had nothing to do with the wedding and it's many trivial details at all.
And yet, this was always where I found small indicators and pointers to the real, pressing issue.

What was the real problem?

It was the pride we both carried and paraded and displayed in ugly conversations about cupcakes.

My true issue wasn't my need for cupcakes to be displayed in a certain format. The true, raw, exposed, ugly, sinful, selfish, and broken truth is that the issue was my need for the wedding to be all about me, for me, and by me. What a picture of how I so often live my life, as if everything in it revolves around me.

Weddings symbolize and celebrate the unity of two people; there no longer exists two distinct, separate individuals, but rather, the ceremony binds and commingles two souls into one.
Subsequently, it makes no sense to make the wedding and all of its little details all about yourself.

Engagement is an opportunity to foster and cultivate the selflessness, compassion, and consideration that will be required after the ceremony to make a marriage that lasts, that strengthens in passion and devotion with time. Don't waste this season and the troves of wisdom available to you by insisting that there wouldn't be an issue if he would just agree on the presentation of your dessert.
Practice humility. Learn patience. Embrace the early lessons of oneness when little disagreements surface. Don't be overcome by the details and lose sight of why Jesus has brought you together in the first place. Do not adamantly close yourself to embracing the lessons of the engagement season.
Because, let's be honest.
Cupcakes are just too delicious to fight over.
And if your fiancé doesn't think so, opt for a mini white cake on a log. It makes for good pictures. ;)

Love,
one (still) cupcake stand advocate to another.