Reflecting on Our Engaged Encounter Weekend, Five Years Later
/GENEVIEVE ALLEN
Recently, on a sunny pandemic afternoon, my husband Dalton and I pulled out our old workbooks from our Engaged Encounter weekend and read them in our backyard while our kids played outside. Five years before, we had written in these books, completely unaware of what marriage would actually look like in practice. It was sweet and sobering--and often hilarious--to read our responses to the prompts, as young and inexperienced as we were.
PHOTOGRAPHY: FENIX PDE
To give you some context, our Engaged Encounter weekend took place over three days at a retreat house in Baton Rouge. There were cafeteria lunches, camp beds, and awkward conversations with fellow engaged couples. Three married couples and a priest presided over the activities. Most of the day was structured to be similar to a classroom-style setting, with our instructors telling us personal stories about different topics, such as budgeting, newlywed life, NFP and child-rearing. We would then have “breakout sessions” with our future spouses, in which we would discuss these topics on a personal level.
As you might imagine, the whole weekend was really designed to offer as much as we as a couple were willing to put into it. Dalton and I were earnest, writing extensively in our workbooks and often having conversations that produced tears--usually happy, occasionally frustrated or anxious.
I recommend this pre-cana weekend to anyone who is willing to really commit to using it as a tool to improve communication and trust prior to marriage. After reading through our workbooks again, some seemingly contradictory truths stuck out boldly to me:
You will change.
One thing that stood out to me is how young we seemed in our communication. The idealism oozed out of the pages as we confidently wrote about all of the things we expected marriage to be. There’s also no evidence in our past voices of the deep intimacy that comes with time. My responses were casual and flippant, often glossing over some of the real issues we finally came to discuss only after we were married.
The kids who filled out those pages were mere outlines of the adults we are today. Who knows how we will change in the next 5, 10, 50 years from now?
You won’t change.
Despite some of the superficial responses we gave back then, the raw material of our souls is written on those pages. There was a section to fill out about what we perceived to be our biggest flaws, and I was sorry to see, five years later, that mine remain the same.
There was also a section about what gifts we would bring to the marriage. Happily, Dalton and I have both developed a lot of these gifts, far beyond what we might have expected when we first discussed what they were. Dalton’s patience, for example, is seemingly boundless and somehow only increasing as we add more children to our family.
You get to decide.
One of the most fun aspects of the weekend is the time you spend discussing what your future family will look like. How will you celebrate holidays, develop traditions, raise children?
Dalton and I come from wonderful families, but there were a few things we decided we would like to do differently in our own. Like the founding fathers writing out our own Declaration of Independence, the joy and excitement of creating something new leaps off the pages of our workbooks. For example, we decided that we would prioritize family dinner time. We added a clause about occasionally calling an audible for a rare “treat night” where we would order takeout and watch a movie during dinner. We have consistently kept this law and this amendment to this day.
You won’t get to decide.
Our workbooks covered many of the important topics that a couple should discuss before marriage, but there are certain lessons that come only with time and experience. There are some things you won’t get to choose.
Prior to our marriage, we had never discussed in any meaningful detail some of the most difficult parts of life, including our deepest fears and anxieties. In the five short years we have been married, we have encountered some of these together. When we said our vows at our wedding, the “worse” of “for better or for worse”--sickness, poverty, death--were all theoretical. Although we have no idea what is still to come in our lives and marriage, we still trust in the mercy and love of God--just like the naïve kids we used to be.
About the Author: Genevieve currently practices as a lactation consultant and blogs with her sister Kat Finney for The Sister Post, a blog offering two perspectives on everything from spiritual discernment to baby gear. Genevieve and her husband Dalton began dating on the feast of St. Joseph. They have two children.