This one’s probably going to get me in trouble but here it goes: men are stupid. In my not-so-distant single days, I was obsessing over a loser ex with my friend Ruthie. Exasperated, she gave me the single best bit of dating advice ever: “men are stupid,” she said. A mother of six (!) boys and one grandson, she told me that she loves her boys more than anything, that boys are wonderful, but she said she’s learned that they’re just not that bright. Or deep. We women obsess over what they’re thinking or what they meant when they called or didn’t call. Ruthie told me they don’t mean ANYTHING. They don’t think it through at all, she said. We’re the ones that assign meaning, not them.

He didn’t call when he said he would? Maybe he’s not that into you. Or maybe he’s just stupid. Either way, try to enjoy yourself and size up his character and other things that make him fit to be your life partner. But don’t drive your girlfriends (and me) crazy with the “what does he mean by . . .” conversations. Chances are really good he meant nothing by it.

Three yeas ago today, Christopher and I were married on the banks of the Chattahoochee River here in Atlanta. It was one of those perfect, rare humidity-free days, sunny and in the 70′s. He teared up as I made the way down the aisle. The youngest members of our bridal party — 3 years old, both of them — delighted everyone with their halting walks, stumbles (my nephew plopped down on his butt and popped right back up), skips and detours. We had two ceremonies: an American one and a Persian one. We danced a Foxtrot to “Fever.” We had cedar smoked salmon with apple pie for dessert. Champagne and pomegranate martinis flowed. I cried and smiled and pinched myself and floated through the evening.

I love you, Honey. You are my dream come true.

All images were taken by the wonderful Alan Weiner of the WeddingBureau. Wedding invitations and event paperie by my good friend, Kemba, of KembaCelebrations.

Looking for more great photos? Grab a cup of tea or coffee and check out these sites that host more Wordless Wednesday entries: SevenClownCircus, 5MinutesforMom, and WordlessWednesday.

But he makes me laugh. When we dated, he worried that he wasn’t deep enough for me. And I did think I wanted a guy I could have long philosophical conversations with. But I’d dated a few of those and you know what? They were kind of boring. Now I’m not saying all deep guys are boring. Just the ones I met.

My husband made me laugh, got me out of my head, was (and is) kind and consistent. His moral compass was strong and sure. (Some of those philosophical guys can shift based on what side of the moral argument suits them in the moment.)  If I need to go way, way deep on a subject, I have a dozen girlfriends on speed dial I can ring up.

Besides, my hubby’s a lot deeper than he gives himself credit for.