I hate weddings. I know “hate” is a strong word, but I can’t help it. It is at least one full year of planning, celebrating with engagement parties, bridal parties, never-ending discussions about dresses, colors, food, seating charts, and honeymoon destinations. None of which truly has any real effect on my life, yet I have to be involved in these events as the sister, friend, cousin, or co-worker of the bride or groom. The pure exhaustion of having to smile through every different version of pink from champagne to lavender is asking a lot of one person’s sanity. I didn’t even know there was a lavender pink. There has always been lavender, and pink, but both together was news to me. It apparently makes this color that looks like, yes, you guessed it, pink.
Well, now it’s my turn. I am the bridezilla stressing out about lavender pink. My mom has literally rearranged the seating chart twenty-two times…she swears it’s only been about ten, but no. I counted. My sister and bridesmaids all tell me to pick the dresses I want them to wear, but all have different ideas of what that dress should be. Sara wants a v neckline because she says it helps offset her broad shoulders, Amanda is pregnant so wants a high waistline dress to leave room for baby, and Ellen wants a sweetheart neckline because she says it will apparently make her look taller. I never realized a dress could actually make you look taller; I thought that’s why we wear three-inch heels, but what the hell do I know.
Jared, my fiancé, stays out of it for the most part. His favorite response is, “whatever you want.” At first, I thought he was just being sweet, but now I realize that was just his way of distancing himself from all of it, and now I loathe those three words. Jared’s mom appointed herself wedding planner and has recently become my very own Facebook stalker. I appreciate the help, but I would have fired her months ago if I could have. She messages me everything from pictures of perfect wedding bouquets to articles about how to achieve perfect posture on your wedding day. No, I’m not kidding. Apparently, good posture is another thing I should add to the one billion things I need to worry about. I’m so glad. I didn’t know what else could possibly go on that damn list, but my mother-in-law has been able to add to it without hesitation.
I shouldn’t say it has all been bad. It has been fun picking out our wedding invitations, cake tasting, and creating the wedding gift registry. Plus, all of the brides before me give me hope I can do this and will make it on the other side with my sanity. I keep repeating the infamous quote, “whatever doesn’t kill us, makes us stronger.” If this is really true, then by the time this wedding is over, I should have the strength of King Kong.