Irony, Thy Name Be Nuptials

If you are an avid reader of my blog, you know that my last rant  post was about having to be a guest at a wedding shower. I came. I saw. I conquered. Although it was very typical of a bridal shower, it was atypical of my girlfriend. Come to find out, it was thrown by her mother. She wanted it in the first place. SHOCKER! So with this cute little wrap up of my last experience I move forward with my latest anxiety attack: my looming proposal and the fiasco/prison sentence of planning my own wedding.  Pause briefly for a moment of horror…

Ok. I think I can talk about it now… So Boyfriend and myself have been chatting quite a lot about the “big day”. He has arranged for us to go down to visit my father and step-mother in NC over the fourth of July holiday so he can ask my dad for my hand. We are a tight unit, my dad and I. He raised myself and my sister after my parents were divorced. I’m not a daddy’s girl, but I am. If that makes any sense. Anyway, rambling and over explanation put on hold. I know my dad really likes my guy. If you know my dad at all, it really shows. But, out of respect Boyfriend has been wanting to ask him before he puts anything else into motion. So, we go to NC in 2 weeks from Saturday. With that in mind, Boyfriend asked me to go get my ring finger sized and pick a few different styles of ring that I like so he has an idea of what he’s looking at. It just so happened I had an appointment right across the street from our preferred jeweler last night and so, I went over there. They were so helpful. They built a profile of my likes and dislikes, favorites and sizes in their database for Boyfriend to refer to when he comes in. That was the fun part… and if my journey down this road continues the way I imagine it is going to… it was the only fun part until we go home after our wedding.

In the last week or two I’ve discussed this with my mother. Wait. It starts further than that. About a year ago, when I was a MOH to a friend of mine and my little sister shared her plan of action, motivation and opinions on when she is my MOH. Hold the phone. Who said this was happening? *Looks around the room*. No one? Ok, just checking. So I asked her, jokingly, what would happen if I didn’t select her? She lost her mind. At first it was funny. Sure. OF COURSE I was looking for an overreaction. BUT, as the big day approaches where I will have this very real concern on my plate it’s a big source of anxiety. My idea of a shower (if I have to have one) is tasteful, color coordinated, flowers, some cute little center pieces and a light meal. A bachelorette party at a local art studio, some wine and my closest girl friends, home by midnight to sleep. And at my wedding I imagine said MOH being my right hand, nice speech, dancing, partying and an emotional hug at the end of the night. The end. My sister said she is going to take me out to a bar (I would pay for everything of mine on my own of course as she is broke and younger than me). She would plaster male genitalia all over everything (I’m not uptight, I’m just a little classier… a lot classier than her) and her excuse for being my maid of honor is to be plastered because “MY SISTER’S THE BRIDE!”


So, the first adjustment I’ve made to my (at this point) hypothetical wedding: No Maid of Honor. To spare my sanity, dignity and to preserve a day designed for romance and my best friend and I to tie the knot and to preserve one person’s feelings. Worth it? Sometimes I wonder.

The next aspect of what will inevitably become a three ring circus is my mother. For the last two weeks I have been in discussion with my mother about Boyfriend’s plan. We want to be as financially prepared as we can be (for two broke adults just trying to get on their own two feet). So she knows all about us going to NC for the purpose mentioned above. From the moment those words left my fingers, were put together with my keyboard and showed up in her inbox all I have heard was, “Well what makes him so sure that I like him enough to say yes? (add the ever tactful “LOL” to lighten the mood). This has been mentioned at least 4 times in text, email and person. Oh, I don’t know, maybe because he does everything on your To-Do list every time he’s there? Maybe because he carries all your heavy things? Just a hunch. My relationship with my mother is very complicated. We had a falling out for a couple years when my father was raising me and my sister. Then I moved out. We got close again. Then I had to move home for the last 3 years and it has since deteriorated due to her many issues and my difference in personality. So You could say maintaining a relationship with her is like restoring a piece of fine art. VERY DELICATE and often times it makes your neck hurt and you have to cock your head and wonder, “What in the flying F@&$ was the artist thinking?”  So this has gotten under my skin to no limit. Everyone who hears me lament about having a wedding or shower all say the same thing, “Do it for your mom. She deserves it. You owe it to her.”

Photo courtesy of:

Photo courtesy of:

I don’t owe it to her. Because it will be made the “mother of the bride show”. How many times can she parade this around as her new thing? How much control will she seek? And if I need her expertise or advice will she tell me without making me jump through a trillion hoops because her and I have different opinions? Also, fun fact, my mother is single and wants nothing more in the world a companion. So, it’s fun talking to her about something like this because she gets quite short and disinterested. Should be fun… Super fun.

I dont even have a rock on my finger and I am already a total nut-job. I find myself using Google to find cheap alternatives to things I’ve seen people spend too much money on. I’ve gotten a bunch of things put together for centerpiece inspiration (thank you Pinterest). And I have already had to sacrifice a MOH. I have already had to lose my cool because my boyfriend is NOT asking my mother for my hand (that seems absurd to me). My father is alive and well and HE will be the one to get that honor, as he did the hard stuff for his girls. And that’s that. The end. Does anyone have an easy way of doing this, short of spending trillions in a planner to filter this crap? If you’ve had a similar experience or solution please don’t hold out on me. My anxiety can’t take years of this frustration. I. Can’t. Do. It. So I’m sure you will all be entertained for many many months to come. Stay tuned.

Oh and Editor’s note: All that has played on my radio while writing this has been about weddings. Specifically weddings. Bruno Mars “Marry You” and Dierks Bentley “Diamonds Make Babies”… So there’s that.


2 thoughts on “Irony, Thy Name Be Nuptials

  1. Girl, hang in there.

    1. Don’t sweat the small stuff. No one remembers flowers or light displays or any of that.

    2. So you don’t have a maid of honor… you could have a matron 😉

    3. I say chat with your mom and put it on the table. If she has trouble putting aside her own stuff for the sake of your super-exciting-next-step-in-life, then maybe you move forward making plans without consulting her much. Even if that sucks, it may preserve the relationship more than trying to force conversations about wedding dresses and music and shower stuff.

    4. As for saving money, you could make your own playlist and play it over a set of speakers. You could do a BBQ out at your location (iirc, you want to do an outdoorsy-fall thing?). We can get a group of girls together to print invitations, put together menus, thank you cards, programs, whatever! (I had a fun program at a wedding once that they turned into a fan for their outdoor wedding).

    So much else to chat about. Let me know if you want to get some wine and chat some time 🙂 You’ve got a lot of back-up singers who are so excited for you — even if those people aren’t your immediate family all of the time. ❤

    • Thanks Sam. I’m sure I’ll call on you all in the coming months, years? Who knows. It’s out of my control at this point. The point is, there are alternatives. 🙂 Until then I am finding peace in my own day to day life. I don’t want to “jump the shark” just yet. 😉

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