Weddings are a nightmare. No one tells you that they’re a nightmare. Everyone tells you it’s so much fun and it’s so easy. The truth is actually that it’s a soul sucking process that tests you until you have a nervous breakdown and it becomes touch and go whether you’ll even have a wedding at all.
The idea of a wedding is fun. I will give you that much. And it’s fun because it’s free to dream about a wedding. There’s no stress when you’re dreaming about your wedding. You want that $20,000 Pnina Tornai? Get it girl. You want 170 dozen roses? Live your life! You want Beyoncé to perform? Yas!
But then you wake up and realize your budget for 200 people is $50, some change you found on the floor of your car, a touch of pocket lint, and salty, salty tears.
Weddings. Are. A. Fortune.
In most places, they’re expensive (little country towns or backyard weddings excluded). We’re from New York and some venues require the sacrifice of your first born to get the lowest option Wedding package that they offer. And honestly, after paying for a wedding I can’t afford a child so please, take it.
And being from New York, you have to have certain things. Not because you want them, but because someone’s mother wants them, be it yours or your significant others. You have to have this DJ and you have to have that photographer and you need to invite family members that you actually hate because at some point, life became a competition with people you don’t even care about.
Then, when you think you’re good because all your vendors are paid, you have a decent chunk of the venue locked down… you realize there are so many little things you forgot about.
Table numbers. Ceremony decorations. Centerpieces. Cake toppers. The entire cake for that matter (my venue didn’t include it). Something for the ring bearer to carry the rings on. Extra flowers for the family because god forbid they don’t have a corsage. Undergarments for your dress. A guestbook. A card box. Champagne flutes because the ones from the venue just aren’t good enough. Gifts for your bridal party, like thanks for experiencing this horrific event with me, but also pretty crappy you let me spend my life’s savings on a single day.
You have to draw the line somewhere. Gifts for parents? Did I ask you to birth me and then force me go to college to acquire a lifetime of student debt, and then have to work at a job I hate because my degree is useless, and then push me to get married and dig my debt hole so deep that I’m fairly certain I can just keep going and escape to China? No. I didn’t ask for this. Enjoy your free meal. You’re welcome.
(Just kidding I really do love you but if we’re being honest, I didn’t ask to be birthed).
Anyway, if you like severe anxiety, diarrhea, being extra poor, and being exhausted all the time then you’re going to love wedding planning. It’s the best.
I can only hope that the end result will be worth all of this work because if it’s not, secure me a spot at the local asylum because I WILL lose my shit.