Socially Safe Wedding

We had planned to be married on Labor Day weekend of 2020. However, the spring’s restructuring of our daily lives made it difficult to plan and definitely impacted opportunities to spend time with each other. We decided to move our wedding date up; at least we’d be together.

We were disappointed family wouldn’t be able to be with us. On the other hand, while not being able to be physically present, more of the family and other friends would be able to join us virtually. We also had the opportunity to blend a traditional American wedding with aspects of the culture where we had grown up.

The LIVE icon flashed on the YouTube screen. “Thank you for joining us for Missy and Nathan’s wedding.”

A close-up of Missy appeared, with the delicate necklace that held my wedding band. There was a moment when her face expressed surprise, and a hand came up to cover her mouth. Then the video switched to a close-up of me, eagerly waiting for my bride. Finally, the shot captured the two of us facing each other and smiling for those who had joined us electronically.

The video was the result of some precisely choreographed movements, strategically placed props, and remote-controlled cameras discretely operated by Missy’s matron of honor. The close-up shots were live. Under and between these shots she layered longer clips, filmed earlier, of Missy walking down the aisle in her wedding dress or of me, wearing a tuxedo and anxiously waiting for her to join me at the front of the hall. Our “guests” would never know that, in reality, we were in my living room and decidedly less formally dressed.

Missy and I are both TCK’s – third culture kids. We grew up with different ideas about modesty and beauty than many of our friends and viewers. In our culture, a bride’s headpiece would have been fashioned from leaves, perhaps with a few flowers added, and a short grass skirt would cover her hips. Instead, Missy wore a pair of earrings, a necklace, and a smile. Her arms framed her breasts, and in her hands, a bouquet of flowers substituted for the grass skirt. She looked to me.

A necklace similar to Missy’s encircled my neck, strung with the wedding ring that I had chosen for her. Despite her hand coming to her face, she otherwise managed to keep her poise. She had seen hundreds of other men in them, but she had never seen me wearing a penis gourd. Bracelets of woven vines hung on our wrists and ankles.

Keeping in mind the cultural sensitivities of most of those watching, all live shots were limited to close-ups. A short biographical video came next. The program continued with the usual address to the couple, the meaning and purpose of Christian marriage, and the taking of the vows.

“I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss your bride.” The video lingered on our kiss for a few moments, before we turned to face the camera.

(Kissing while wearing a penis gourd can be a bit awkward.) 

The preacher announced, “May I present to you, Missy and Nathan Smith.” Organ music swelled in the background before the video blacked out.

Arm in arm, we walked from the living room to my bedroom. Closing the door, I turned, took the bouquet of flowers she offered me, and set it down on a table.

Missy knelt in front of me, untied the string, and removed the penis gourd. She showered the tip of my penis with kisses. Then it was my turn to kneel while she stood upright. I kissed her between her legs. We were naked and not ashamed.

We weren’t going to risk showing up for a reception with friends and family planned for the fall with Missy four months pregnant, so I handed her a condom. She had practiced putting one on a dildo—and practiced other things with the dildo as well.

Finally, we became one flesh…