When I first moved to the Netherlands, my friend M. smiled at me with that knowing curve in the corner of her lips and said, “Let me know when it gets hard. When you start missing home. Or when you’ve simply had enough of all this… Dutch.”

And sometimes, it does get hard.

Not in a dramatic way. I don’t find myself sobbing over jars of zacuscă at midnight or daydreaming about crowded buses in Bucharest. It’s something quieter.  I miss leaving my lovely daughter with my mom at any hour, without cross-referencing agendas and syncing calendars like it’s a NASA launch. I miss weddings. Real ones. Romanian ones. You know—where the music doesn’t stop till the sun comes up, where sarmale steam on every plate, and where you dance until your shoes beg for mercy.

I told my brother recently, “You have to get married. Like, soon. I need to dance at a wedding. This is a matter of cultural survival.”

Let me explain.

Dutch weddings are… different. They’re lovely in their own way, but they feel more like a cozy birthday party with cake and coffee than a once-in-a-lifetime celebration. My glittering dresses? My heels that could double as sculpture? Useless. In the Netherlands, showing up at a wedding in a gown makes you look like you’ve accidentally wandered off the Oscars red carpet and into a backyard BBQ.

Take birthdays, for example. When my niece turned 13, we were invited to our first Dutch birthday party. No lavish dinner, no buffet table groaning under homemade delights. Instead: a circle of chairs. People sitting. Chatting. Sipping tea or coffee. Eating apeltaart (apple pie, the national birthday food). This is what’s known as a “Dutch circle party.” You even greet everyone when you arrive. Not just the birthday person. Everyone. And you congratulate them all.

You’ll have to take a tour around the circle, greeting each person individually, with a handshake or three cheek kisses (Dutch rule), depending on the situation. At this point, you must know that Gefeliciteerd they tell, is not their name, but they are in fact wishing you congratulations. You are expected to congratulate them in return. It goes like that:

Person number one sitting on the first chair: Gefeliciteerd.
Me confused: Mihaela! Oh, wait—that’s not your name…?

Anything that resembles a chair or a sofa will have been dragged from every other room in the house (or the neighbor’s house) to form a circle. Then, once you have found a chair and took your sit to the reunion, the party I mean, you will be offered a coffee and some cake, for sure apletaart is in the picture. Well, happy to have dessert first for once in my life!

Eventually, you’ll be offered a hotdog in a bun (broodje knakworst) and maybe some cheese cubes (kaasblokjes). If you’re lucky, someone will pass around the “chippies” (cute name for crisps). And when the party’s over? You’ll know. The host will start tidying up around you. No need to guess. This is your cue. Grab your coat.

Now, if you’re turning 50 in the Netherlands, get ready to meet… Abraham. Or Sarah, if you’re a woman. These biblical icons have become symbols of reaching a “wise age.” You’ll likely find your face taped onto a giant doll outside your house and colorful balloons announcing to the entire neighborhood: “This person has SEEN THINGS.” And yes, there are cakes. Balloons. Possibly a sarcastic banner. The Dutch do love a good public birthday roast.

Or if you’re getting 60, 70, 80… they’re all celebrated. Along with 1/2 Abraham or Sarah for when you’re getting 25!! Then you get half a cake. Gezzelig, huh?

25 Half Abraham (or Sara / Sarah)
50 Abraham (or Sara / Sarah)
60 Isaac / Isaak (or Elisabeth / Elizabeth / Rebekka / Rebecca)
70 Jacob  (or Anna / Rachel / Lea)
80 Joseph (or Deborah / Asenath)
90 Anthony / Antonius / Efraïm (or Ruth)
100 Methusalem (or Judith) … if you make it so far.

Oh, and if you’re wondering about tying the knot here:
Getting married on Monday morning is free. Zero euros. But if you’re aiming for a weekend “I do,” get ready to shell out up to €1129.90. Not €1130, no. The Dutch are precise. I still don’t know who came up with 271.40 as the price for a Tuesday afternoon marriage, but I suspect a math teacher was involved. Or an accountant with a playful sense of humor.

And here’s something else: a lot of Dutch couples live together without ever marrying. After learning the price of a Saturday wedding, I get it. Love doesn’t have to come with a receipt.

That said, if you do go ahead with the big day, there are some sweet Dutch traditions to borrow. Like handing out small pouches of five sugar-coated almonds. Each one symbolizes happiness, love, fidelity, prosperity, and fertility. Honestly, I’d keep the almonds and skip the €1100 invoice.

The Dutch version of a best man? It’s more of a friend who moonlights as a free wedding planner—ceremoniemeester sounds fancy, but don’t expect a tux and a toast. Expect a clipboard.

And marriage sayings? Well… there’s “Trouwen is houwen” (marriage is staying together for life). If a Dutch person tells you “Zo zijn we niet getrouwd” he means that was not the deal and “Van bruiloft komt bruiloft” means that one wedding usually augurs another, and my personal favorite: there is only one word that rhymes with huwelijk (marriage) – afschuwelijk (horrendous). Of course, that’s just a joke. (I hope.)

Most weddings in the Netherlands tend to be pretty simple affairs compared to the extravagance of my own home country, so going really crazy with ice sculptures and acrobats will probably raise some eyebrows from your Dutch guests. Wedding photographers can be very expensive here as well, however, some of them can be quite flexible as far as the prices go depending on the number of hours worked. Check Naomi van der Kraan if you wanna have amazing wedding photos! I am in love with her photography! One step aside – Naomi is also doing intimate photography if you are interested in some beautiful bride photos to surprise your groom! Check her out here.

Still, for all the quirks and cultural curveballs, I’m here. I’m learning. I’m laughing. I’m collecting these tiny Dutch moments like postcards from a new life. Some days, I miss the chaos and warmth of home. Some days, I find it in an unexpected smile, a circle of new friends, or a surprise stroopwafel at the office.

Love & Monday marriage, y’all!