Beastmode ~or~ The Tragedy of Always Being a Bridesmaid

Have you ever heard of the term Beastmode? Well, if you haven't, I have a picture that might help you understand what this phrase means. I was looking through my friend Jay's wedding photo album while drinking my coffee this morning and dirtied my screen with spittle after stumbling upon this gem.

Courtesy of Angela Groce - Unveiled Radiance Photography

Is this the face of desperation? Is it the result of being wrapped up in the presence of true love for a weekend? Is it the spirit of being caught up in friendly competition during an age-old tradition? Or is it the moment a single bridesmaid realizes that if you can't have the satisfaction of an engagement or marriage like your cohorts, you might as well walk home with a consolation prize. 

Of all the weddings I've gone to over the years, I've never wanted a bouquet so badly. I'll admit, part of my determination came from my competitive nature. But this wedding comes at the end of two years of non-stop weekend nuptials. My wedding schedule is starting to look as thin as the crowd that gathered to catch the bouquet. Once upon a time I was one of fifty girls clamoring in pile of taffeta and hairspray as the flowers sailed over our heads. Now I'm one of six - or less - while the married couples look on with emotions that range from tickled to horror to pity. 

Look at that reach. Years of tennis lessons made that extension possible. Check out the height: the pure determination. It looks like something that should be on a Sports Center highlight reel. 

My friend Jay is one of the best people you'll ever meet. She was my first "new" friend in college. I sat next to her during the car ride home from my sorority's bid day. She's such a trooper. I once left her in the Lambda Chi house to fend for herself against the philandering of a stout boy they called Shmooey while I tossed my hair and batted my eyes at another chapter member. I so wish that eighteen-year-old girl would have had the good sense to remember the old adage: nothing good ever happens after 2am. 

The Bible verse above reminds me of my friend. Jay is the model of Southern grace. She drinks sweet tea, wags her finger at impropriety, and makes certain that everything she says is anchored in something positive. Think Gone With The Wind sentimentality minus the overt racism. Even in the face of great struggle, Jay maintains the picture of feminine dignity and strength. 

Gentleness and quiet are just a few of the things I am working on this summer. Some people might confuse those virtues with submissiveness or an inability to stand on your own two feet as a woman. I tend to disagree. Turn on any reality show, and you see women screaming at each other.  Sometimes I think this is what is being packaged and shipped to our young girls as an example of strength and resilience. We're showing them that being gentle means being weak and being irrational equates to being strong. Case in point: Did anyone see this viral video of a dissatisfied Dunkin' Donuts (video contains strong language) customer who went on a tirade after not getting a receipt? 

 But Gentleness allows us to think wisely about things before we make snap decisions driven by emotions. Gentle women don't easily back down because they know exactly who they are and what's worth protecting. Gentle women might be the fiercest of the bunch.  

I did an activity with my seniors this year in which we had to pick a spirit animal. Sometimes I think about spirit animals when I think of my friends. Jay would most definitely be a stag: gentle, regal, and strong. My students came up with a couple of really good animals and matching analogies for themselves: wolves, bears, falcons, butterflies... When the question was turned to me, I was shocked that I couldn't think of anything. A couple of good suggestions were thrown at me after I offered a couple of key words about my personality: restless, snarky, overemotional, a tad flighty. I got everything from a honeybadger, to a narwhal, to an awkward turtle, to Loca the pug that can't run (google it NOW).

Courtesy of Angela Groce - Unveiled Radiance Photography 

This weekend made me thankful for all the strong women I have in my life. Most anchor me, temper me. I have a lot to learn from them. Maybe if I learn how to tap into that gentle spirit that they have shared with me, I won't be so anxious to reach up and snatch the bridal bouquet while then yelling, "Booyah" into the camera.