When BNF and I got engaged and we started planning the wedding, I heard more advice than I’d bargained for. And occasionally more than I desired.
I was told how hard it would be, and how stressful. I was told how I’d have to do everything on my own, and how there were all these little details that I wouldn’t even think of.
“Just wait,” PiC told me, “it’ll be a few days before the wedding and you’ll be writing out all the place cards by hand, while your fiance sits in front of the TV.”
I nodded and smiled, secretly thinking that I would be the one bride who would escape the stress.
After all, wedding planning was my happy place. When I was procrastinating on school work (and really, when wasn’t I?), I looked up table arrangements. When I was bored in class, I emailed vendors and nailed down schedules. And, contrary to PiC’s prediction, it wasn’t just me doing all the work – BNF has been amazing. Not just supportive, but involved.
But now we’re less than 20 days away, and apparently my psyche feels the need to make up for lost stress.
- Is it really okay to seat these relatives over here? Are they too far? Will they feel slighted?
- What if someone shows up unexpectedly?
- Will the set-up all go smoothly? Will I know?
- What if my bridesmaids don’t like their presents? What if the flowers are wilted?
- What if photos take too long? Or the ceremony takes too long? Am I allowed to give my pastor a time limit? (Note: I actually tried. He smiled, nodded, and gave me a figurative pat on the head.)
Logically and rationally I know that these things will be fine.
And I know that they are not what the wedding is all about. Not by a long shot.
But it is apparently impossible for me to not have something to stress over.
When everyone was giving me this advice, and telling me how stressful it would be, they also shared the “positive” side.
“With all that stress you lose, like, five pounds in the month leading up to the wedding.”
Does the cheesecake sitting in my fridge know about this deal?