Today was a weird day. While I've been separated from my husband for two years and divorced now for more than two months, a package related to the start of our marriage -- one I knew was coming -- still managed to stop me in my tracks.

It arrived in a large rectangular white box with a handle on it and a label that read, "Wedding Gown Preservation, Co". Inside it, a $6,000 Marchesa wedding gown, circa 2011. It wasn't just an overpriced designer dress I got married in... it represented so much more about the decision I was making and the life path I was embarking on when I wore it more than 8 years ago.

It was the only dress I ever cried when I put on...

It was the only dress that for a few brief moments made me feel like the most beautiful girl in the world...

It was the dress I had dreams of wearing again one day when we renewed our vows on our 10 year wedding anniversary...

It was the dress I envisioned having its train made into a christening gown for our future child...

It was the dress that served as an example of the hope and allure my decision to get married meant to me at the time. While I know I made the right decision choosing to get divorced, there will forever be a little sting that I didn't get to pass it down to my daughter one day... stumble upon it in the attic going down memory lane, or even just wear it one more time to relive one of the best days of my life. This type of nostalgia is part of the journey when a major life choice doesn't work out.

On the flip side, it's a dress that represents a few important life lessons that I've grown from. I'd never again spend that much money on a dress I'm wearing for one-day (almost double the cost of my first car), and purchasing the dress was part of blowing the budget that led to a major fight with my new husband at the time (a theme that lingered for years after). It also represents my own shallow priorities during this fairytale I put myself in with me as the princess protagonist. It was indulgent. Self-centered. Irresponsible.

Now, as I list this carefully preserved gown on wedding dress consignment websites, I'm looking ahead to at least recoup some of what was lost, monetarily anyway. The dress no longer represents the fairytale it once did. It's now a white satin symbol of a path that didn't lead to the promised land of wedded bliss, but did teach me some invaluable life lessons that I'll wear with me on the path ahead.