I Swore I Wouldn't Be Bridezilla. It Didn't Work Out.
When my fiance' and I got engaged, we took a few months to enjoy simply being engaged before we started planning. The only thing that we knew, however, was that we wanted a small wedding. Immediate family and a few other family members that we are close to. 40 people would be invited, and we assumed about 30-32 would attend. Perfect.
In my mind, keeping it small meant we could have the wedding of our dreams - we could have it wherever we wanted, whenever we wanted, exactly how we wanted it. We wanted a wedding that was just a step or two above eloping - elegant and with family present but without the major hoopla. I have a strict no-hoopla policy.
We chose our venue for the ceremony - a glass chapel on a cliff overlooking the ocean. it seats 100, max, but actually feels much smaller. It will take me a grand total of 8 steps to make it down the aisle. My fiance' had already attended a wedding there and I fell in love the minute I saw photos of it online. We called and made our "donation" to hold our spot without me ever having stepped foot in the church. I just knew it was right for us.
I was excited. This whole planning thing so far is easy.
Then we started looking for a reception site. We decided on having a cake and champagne reception to save money - we much prefer to have a luxurious honeymoon rather than have all of our money blown on a 5 hour party. The wedding is supposed to be about us after all, right? For the reception, we settled on a gorgeous resort that is mere minutes from the chapel. Having it at this location took up our entire reception budget, but we didn't care - it was stunning - we would be able to watch the sunset over the ocean with all the people that we loved on our wedding day.
Yet again I found myself feeling rather self-satisfied and blissful. This is all going so smoothly!
As a matter of fact, it was going so well that I decided to share our plans with the people who are closest to us. And oh boy, that was where the #^@% started hitting the proverbial fan.
Here is the thing. Everyone has opinions and is entitled to them. The problem is that when it's my wedding and I haven't asked for an opinion, I'm really not too happy to hear it. Especially when my fiance' and I are the ones who are paying for the wedding.
This morning I was so stressed that I cried through most of breakfast. This is supposed to be fun, and now I just feel like I can't make anyone happy. I feel like I'm costing people money to travel to be with us at the wedding, and that I owe them something in return. Dinner at the reception, at least.
Of course, this means I have to give up my dream location and all of the perfect visions of myself in a white dress (which has caused quite the stir itself, since it is my second wedding) with my new husband by my side, watching the sunset over the ocean. They have been replaced with visions of us in a rented back room of a restaurant eating a buffet. Decidedly less elegant than I had pictured it.
This is why people elope. This is why brides spend so much of their wedding planning time crying.
My biggest frustration in all of this is that we are 29 and 36 years old. We are paying for our own wedding. Aren't we allowed to have our party - our wedding - the way that we want to have it?
I guess in the end, some battles aren't worth fighting. Dinner at the reception might be one of those battles.
But no matter what, I'm standing firm on one thing - I'm wearing a white dress.
Well, ok, ivory (but only because pure white looks awful on everyone - it's too harsh against your skin). I personally asked Tim Gunn if it was ok and he said yes. He was very emphatic about it and so I'm sticking to my guns, no matter how many passive-aggressive innuendos are thrown my way. No powder blue, tea length dresses for this bride. No sirree.
I'm wearing white and I'm getting married. Even if it kills me.
Which it might.