My greatest source of shame is not the number of times I’ve listened to “Let It Go” off the “Frozen” soundtrack. It is not the fact that I have the Bagel Bites oven directions memorized (450 degrees for 10 to 12 minutes). It is not even that I once Googled “scenes in ‘The Notebook’ with food.” My greatest source of shame is that I have a secret Pinterest wedding board. When Pinterest announced the presence of secret boards, women around the world rejoiced. We could finally cyber-hoard pictures of Mason jars and color schemes without judgment. Why is this collection of wedding accessories so shameful to me? First of all, I am not engaged. Second of all, I’m not even in a relationship. Finally, the last guy I called was an employee at Gold’s Gym regarding its business hours. I have no legitimate reason to pin wedding dresses. I know this revelation makes me seem unstable, but I can guarantee that many single women with Pinterest accounts have a secret wedding board, too.
This vicious pinning cycle began innocently enough one evening when I noticed a friend, who is actually engaged, pin a picture of a lily arrangement. Lilies are fanciful and cute. I did not want to forget that I once liked them, so I repinned it. Panic set in. This post did not align with any of my existing boards and I did not want to publically create a board titled “Weddings” for fear of mockery. I turned to the dark side of Pinterest: the secret boards. At first, I exercised some self-control–a witty koozie here, a fun light fixture there. Eventually the secrecy of the board consumed me and I began pinning with reckless abandon. I became jealous of my roommate who was a bridesmaid in an upcoming wedding. She could publically pin and pass it off as “research for a friend.”
You know what I’m talking about. The depths of these boards are so convoluted that Olivia Pope could not help you. You naively pin a few quirky venues and before you know it, you have entered a “Wrinkle In Time.” Three hours pass and you have 50 new pins. I, myself, stopped posting to my wedding board cold turkey after realizing the disturbing nature of my addiction. Each pin of a cake topping or whimsical calligraphy on my feed was a test. Eventually, I became strong enough to see a list of “Must Have Rehearsal Dinner Photos” without developing heart palpitations. It has been two months since my last wedding pin, and I grow more resilient every day.
Let my tale be a cautionary one, ladies. Do not fall for the lilies. If you have already started pinning engagement rings, just know that nothing can be done for you. I’m sorry.