With the very foundations of what marriage is being passed down in a sugar almond shell, it’s up to every woman to decide just what exactly she’ll take from the woman before her, and what she’ll pass down to those that will hit the aisle in her footsteps.

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However, whether you like it or not, with something as age-old as marriage, tradition always manages to rear its white-wearing, virginity-flaunting head. From small things like “something borrowed, something blue,” to bigger, scarier things: like being given away at the altar or throwing off your maiden name like a bride’s nightie (see what I did there?). Marriage can be as steeped with tradition or as uniquely different as you want it to be.

From here, on discarding traditions and making your own, or picking traditions to carry on.

I’ve had some surprising things to wrestle with now that my wedding is on the horizon. I tell others and I tell myself that my ideal wedding is a court wedding followed by a small, intimate, backyard BBQ party. I’m not an ostentatious person, I prefer not having the spotlight on myself, in my heart I know that a full day of putting myself on display will wear me down. But faced with the actual prospect of my real wedding, I find myself hankering for the type of wedding I’m familiar with, the type of wedding that has the most personal meaning for me: a Hindu wedding. The red dress and gold jewelry, incense and henna patterns, Sanskrit chanting and the olaga playing through the background. All this despite the fact that most Hindu priests annoy the heck out of me.

Apparently I prefer my religion being personal and informal, not officiated or mandated by gatekeepers. And I’m far more traditional than I thought. This wedding is bringing out the Capricorn in me. ;P