I never dreamed of shopping for a wedding dress. I never dreamed of a wedding day, either. As a young girl turned adolescent turned burgeoning adult I dreamt, instead, of who I would be. There were no delusions of grandeur — I just wondered what I would feel like. Would I still, on occasion, want to crawl out of my own skin? Would I become emboldened, letting people know when no, actually, that wasn't what I wanted? Would I find the levity I craved, the lightness of being, for just a moment, completely content? It was messier than I imagined, this growing into myself. But I did grow — I am still — and I found a partner along the way, one who, if left to his own devices, would eat cereal for every meal and speak a couple of decibels too loudly in otherwise quiet spaces (too many years of working with a chainsaw, he says). Instead I make well-rounded dinners and nudge him when he starts to shout. He wordlessly busses my dirty dishes and puts a roof over my head and changes the oil ...