Overcoming my giant sloth to become a marriage celebrant

Image: Ancient South American rock art on the Nuevo Tolima cliff face, Guaviare, Colombia (c. 20,000 years old)

I recently received an email from The Celebrant Society congratulating me for six months of membership. The Celebrant Society is an association for registered celebrants, with a flamingo proudly taking place as our mascot. In the past six months with The Celebrant Society, I attended The Celebrant Conference in Sydney, participated in Newbie Zooms, met some incredible people (some of whom I message everyday) and carry a confidence as a new marriage celebrant. Although I have been with TCS for six months, I have been an authorised marriage celebrant for a little over a year and yet have had the pleasure to solemnise a marriage. My list of excuses is almost as long as Santa’s naughty list. Yes, I have a full-time job. Yes, I have a small family. Yes, my littlest one is 10 months old. But it is actually at The Celebrant Conference where I learned a very interesting fact presented by the eclectic branding author and powerhouse Lauren Clemett.

But first, let’s go back to a time almost as long ago as my excuses. To a time where our main form of transport was on foot and our favoured clothing was made of animal hide. To a time where our greatest danger was more than looking foolish in front of a group of people.

Thousands of years ago, our brains would hear the rustling of leaves and immediately do its thang to ascertain how dangerous the situation really was. Could the rustling of leaves be merely my loincloth dragging behind me? Could it be my boo walking stealthily as they try to make their advances? Or could it be something more dangerous like a giant sloth about to eat me? It was the amygdala’s job to hurry us into action based on the dangerousness of the situation.

Nowadays, the threat of giant sloths has significantly declined and is (almost?) nonexistent. And though there are no more giant sloths, the amygdala still craves the drama. So if let’s say a five-foot-nothing southwest Sydney woman in her thirties decides to take a leap to start her own business, the amygdala perceives this new venture as a possible threat to the status quo and goes into overdrive. What if you fail? What if you stuff up the paperwork and the couple’s marriage is legally void? What if you get the flu and can’t do the wedding ceremony? 

A beautiful late friend of mine introduced me to a term I was not familiar with, and a term he had no business using. Imposter syndrome. No idea why his inner voice claimed that he was fraudulent when he was closer to the heavens than any of us. Now, thanks to him, this term was bestowed upon me and now I carry it heavily on my shoulders. 

But luckily, I am able to use the power of knowing to unknow things. Although we no longer have to worry about giant sloths and yet, at times our inner voice is our giant sloth, I know this. Therefore, I am able to stifle that inner critic who tells me that I am not good enough. This inner critic is currently sitting in handcuffs as I type away with my babes sleeping soundly in the other room. 

So, happy half year anniversary to me. Though things are moving slowly, they are moving. And although my last three inquiries may have been scammers and spammers, they were three more than what I had six months ago.

If, like me, you are finding this whole wedding and marriage thing to be like a giant sloth, I hope we find each other. I would be absolutely honoured to marry a couple who sees life as it is – real. And to the scammers and spammers, thank you. Your fake inquiry has motivated me to chip away at this biz thing