When I planned my wedding the first time, my ex-husband and I

In the words of Sherri Shepherd—“When I planned my wedding the first time, my ex-husband and I, we were both struggling comics. I had a TV show that had gotten cancelled. Basically, I rented a wedding gown; the reception hall smelled like feet.”—there is both sorrow and laughter, both humility and triumph. She speaks of a wedding not clothed in grandeur, but in hardship. Yet within this confession lies a deeper wisdom: love and union are not measured by wealth, nor does struggle strip them of meaning. Instead, adversity shapes memory, etching into the soul moments that glitter brighter than jewels.

The ancients often praised those who could endure hardship with humor. Consider the tale of Diogenes the Cynic, who lived in poverty, mocking the vanity of kings, yet finding joy in the simplicity of life. Shepherd’s story, though set in modern times, echoes that same spirit: to laugh even when the hall “smells like feet,” to find meaning not in the perfection of circumstance but in the courage to move forward despite it. Her words remind us that imperfection, embraced, becomes its own kind of glory.

There is also the lesson of beginnings. Many unions, like hers, are forged not in abundance but in scarcity, when the bride wears a rented gown and the couple counts each coin. Yet it is in these conditions that the truest test of love is found: whether two souls can stand together when all the trappings of grandeur fall away. For a wedding is not made sacred by the hall or the feast, but by the vows spoken in the face of struggle.

History, too, offers its witness. The Roman general Cincinnatus, though once given supreme authority, returned to his farm with nothing but his plow. His greatness was not in his wealth, but in his humility and service. So too Shepherd, stripped of luxury, bore witness to the truth that dignity and worth are not defined by the spectacle of a day, but by the endurance of spirit through trial.

Thus, let us learn from her words: do not despise humble beginnings, nor measure your worth by the glitter of circumstance. A rented gown can be as radiant as silk, and laughter amidst hardship can be sweeter than music in golden halls. For it is not the perfection of the setting that sanctifies love, but the courage to love even when the air smells of struggle. This is the wisdom of the ancients, and it is the wisdom of Sherri Shepherd’s tale.