So, I’ve been with Anthony for 14 years; engaged for 4.
When he proposed, I was thrilled. Excited. Stoked as fuck to know that, “Yes! My time has come.” I was on my way to become a Mrs. I was finally going to get married!
Random story – years ago (before our engagement), I was scrolling through my news feed on Facebook. It was right after New Years, so you know – I was reading through everyone’s “New year, new me” bullshit. Mine included. Everyone had their goals in place: to
eat healthier, to lose weight, to not cuss so much. Sounds like the same list I draft up every year, and every year, I fall off. It’s alright. I’ve come to terms with it. I love fattening food, I’ve gained back a lot of the weight I lost, and cussing is a part of my DNA. For real. Shit’s not going to change. End. Of. Story.
So yeah, back to what I was talking about… I was scrolling through my news feed, liking everyone’s posts. A friend of mine announced that her man popped the question, with her ring displayed beautifully. It was one of those, “Finally!” posts. It was inevitable – they were each other’s “lobsters.” Huge congratulations were in order.
A couple swipes up, and another engagement was announced. And another. And another. I kid you not, there were literally seven engagements announced that day.
What in the actual fuck?
Yeah, I got salty.
I was happy for everyone, but downright pissed off with what was going on at home.
A whole slew of emotions ran through me. Disappointment. Rage. Resentment. Anger. Sadness. Embarrassment. Confusion. Defeat.
All day, I played the silent treatment – it’s what I’m good at. He would ask what was wrong, and I’d say “nothing.” I would storm around the house slamming doors, kitchen cabinets, drawers, and again, he would ask what was wrong, and I would say “nothing.” I was a fucking volcano, brewing underneath the surface, about to go off at a moment’s notice. Everything about him pissed me off.
The genius that he is… he asked me once more. “WHAT IS WRONG?”
I. LOST. MY. SHIT.
Every ugly reaction you can think of, I did. A hideous Kim Kardashian cry belted out, along with a [insert deep breath, cause the following comes out as one big blubbery run-on sentence while sobbing], “What the fuck are we doing?! Why aren’t we married yet?! Do you not want to marry me?! Is your intention never to get married?! Cause if so, we need to cut the shit right now and quit wasting each other’s time!”
I broke down.
After he calmed my crazy ass down, and I had time to reflect on wtf just happened, I had a pep talk with myself.
Fast-forward to present time. Like, let’s talk about how stressful wedding planning is. Let’s talk about it, because I have had nothing but anxiety and doubt that I can even pull it off. Thinking of the location, dress, venue, reception, flowers, decor… on and on and on. It’s a lot of money. Five years ago, I would have been okay with it, but these days… I’d rather spend that money on a house. I have friends who had gorgeous weddings and budgeted accordingly, but did everything themselves. Even though their weddings turned out perfect, each and every one of them said they were stressed beyond belief. I don’t know if I want that.
It’s funny, when I Googled “the wedding industry”, the first search phrase populated was, the wedding industry is a racket. Hahaha! Not even kidding. Try it! The wedding industry generates over $60 billion annually, with the average wedding costing anywhere from $30k-$40k. (PAUSE) Huh?
I remember watching an episode of Bridezilla, and this chick told her fiance that if he didn’t take out a second mortgage to finance their wedding, she would call it off. Umm, WHAT? What is it about weddings that brings the ugliness out of some people.
Truly thinking that a quick courthouse union, topped with a sweet vacation somewhere will suffice.
Got any suggestions when it comes to wedding planning? I’ve got lots of booze to keep me sane as I stress over the details. Your girl is good in that department.