I do.

For years I have looked back at my wedding day and wished I had spent more time picking out a dress. I was sort of a lost bride. I had no idea what was involved in being a bride or how one went about getting a dress or anything. I knew no one in my same place of life. I had no one to ask to go with me dress shopping. I wanted a close friend, someone who would really tell me if the dress was terrible. I wanted my sister to come but her coming meant her three kids coming including her brand new baby. So I decided to go solo. I picked a Saturday morning and set off driving around town by myself trying on dresses. Little did I know that was odd. I was in jeans and a sweat shirt. I had my hair pulled up in a sloppy pony tail and I am not even sure if I did my make up. I gave myself one day to go...it was the middle of a semester after all and school kept me pretty busy. I went to these fancy places and they wouldn't even let me in because I hadn't made an appointment. There were these little barbie brides with their mothers and five best girlfriends and sisters woowing and watching them as they spun in the 360' mirrors. I felt really embarrassed to be there in my state. One place did let me use a closet to try on dresses. Oh, that was awful.

But I found one place that didn't make me feel like the most depressing neglected bride on the face of the earth. It was Peggy's Bridal. Its the place on State Street in Orem with the bride in a box out in front...a little scary and awkward. The dresses there are not that pricey, they are totally mass produced, and the ladies who run it look like ladies you'd see running your Relief Society (baking casseroles and quilting blankets for all the new babies). I was once again the only solo bride but it was easier to fade away when the place was filled with tons of really old awful brides maid dresses and eight dressing rooms.

The entire day I tried on dresses only to find that I looked absolutely dreadful in wedding dresses. I was not built for them at all. Everything was going wrong. I had dreamed of this moment for years as a little girl and it had arrived but it was pathetic.

I tried on two dresses at Peggy's Bridal one was not my style but was actually pretty on me. The other was more my style but seemed a little too cheaply done. I felt encourage that I had found one dress that was ok looking and I thought I could handle going to a nicer place to try on more dresses. I left and it was dreadful once again. I was about to admit defeat when I thought I should head back to Peggy's and look at those two that weren't that terrible on me once more.

I pulled out the two dresses and tried them on. I was stuck. I needed a friend to help me decide. But no such luck. There was a group of girls outside my changing room waiting for their bride to come out so I ventured out to ask their opinion. They were completely rude. I think they thought I was stealing their bride's mirrors or something. I asked if they would be willing to help me decided but they gave me crusty looks and ignored me completely. So I stood there for one final look as a group of really rude women glared at me from behind and I tried to figure out if this dress was it. I liked the dress I was wearing. It looked the best on me by far. It just wasn't what I thought I wanted at all. It was sweet and simple. Finally I summoned the lady who worked there to help me unzip the dress. As she did she smiled at me and said, "We call this our temple dress." Oh, and of course it was. But I wanted to be breathtaking, glamorous, modern or romantic. I did not want a Utah Mormon standard temple dress! But as I sat there in a cloud of white I realized I felt like a bride going to the temple in it. I felt pretty, clean, and pure. I felt ready to kneel at the alter and covenant for eternity to be by Stewart's side. So in that moment I picked my path. That was it. The "temple dress" was mine. I was that little sweet Mormon girly, not a sophisticated glamorous beauty.

It made sense but I was always a little disappointed. I thought I gave in too soon. I should have looked harder. I never felt like showing it off or showing off my wedding pictures. I thought I looked to simple, so very plain. I would always admire other brides and wonder why I hadn't been able to have a dress more like theirs.

Today Angeli was looking at pictures from our wedding and she was saying how beautiful I looked, that I was a princess. I asked the kids if they wanted to see my wedding dress. They were thrilled that I still had it.

I got it out to their gasps of adoration and awe. I was pleased they were so taken with my $400 dress. On a whim I asked if they wanted to see me in it. They of course were even more delighted. I put it on (it still fit yay!) and it was magic. That same feeling came over me. I felt beautiful. I did feel like a princess. I felt like a girl who could kneel at the alter in front of her creator. I realized why they called it the temple dress it just felt like one. And this time was better, I had an audience to tell me I was beautiful.

Bridger asked me to dance and so we did. Angeli wanted to try it on and that was about the cutest thing you have ever seen. In those moments I fell in love with my dress. As I stood there looking at my reflection with my children staring up at me I realized I had chosen well. It was the prefect dress for me. I wouldn't have wanted any other dress.

That dress had come to symbolize all the things I had to set aside when I picked my life with Stewart. I would not do study abroad. I would not travel the world. I would not get some advanced degree. I would not be that sophisticated girl I thought I wanted to be. I would be just another sweet little Mormon girl. Now five and half years later I looked at where that choice had brought me. I looked into the eyes of my son as he danced with me in my wedding dress, watched my daughter sparkle as she stood drowning in a mass of white feeling the most beautiful she ever had before and it was so very clear. I made the right choice. I do love my dress. I do love being that little Mormon girl.