Sunday 12 February 2012

This much I know...

I've never blogged before this. I don't make it known it to people who know me in real life and I've only publicised it once (discreetly!) in cyber space. My blog stats tell me I have a handful of readers, and I've no idea if any of them have actually read any of my posts.

But that's cool. I started the blog purely as a way to vent, and the blog title was very much a reflection of how I felt at the time. And many, many times since. Panicked. Overwhelmed. Not about being engaged or being married. But just the actual, huge process of planning a wedding day. (Just a day, for goodness sake! It's crazy…)

I also started writing this blog because I wanted a record of this time of planning our wedding – I figured it would be cool to look back on how I was feeling in the run-up to becoming a married woman.

With that in mind, in a contemplative moment earlier today I realised that I've passed through a fair few stages since he popped the question. So here's my take on the roller-coaster ride (so far) of being a bride-to-be:


The euphoria 
The moment arrives and you are the happiest girl in the world. He's asked the question you've been waiting for and you want to shout "YES!" from the rooftops. You can't shout, though, because you're welling up and you just have to kiss and kiss and kiss him. Beautiful.

The thrill 
You start telling people: your family, your friends, your co-workers. The inevitable Facebook status update. You feel like you have champagne bubbles bursting out of you all the time. And you can't stop staring at the ring.

The assumptions 
You realise, without knowing it before, that you have certain strongly held opinions about getting married. You assume your H2B probably feels the same, but, oops, actually he doesn't. So then there's that delicate period of trying to get what you want negotiation. For us two, this is summed up as me: "let's get married in church followed by a big party"; him: "not bothered about the God thing, don't see the point in spending too much money". (I got my way, but there have been many times when I've wished he had.)

The date 
The first big thing you have to sort is the date. You know this because as soon as you tell people you got engaged, the first thing they ask is: "Have you set a date?". It gets old, quickly. So what date? You always fancied getting married in September, but he asked you too late for this September and you don't fancy a year-and-a-half engagement, so you decide a spring wedding is just as good. However, you realise you'd quite like to lose half your body weight before you squeeze into a big white dress and therefore need all the time you can get, so you opt for the end of May. That's still spring, right? Less chance of rain too, hopefully.

Note: It never occurs to you until later to suggest a date that holds special meaning to you, or one that sounds clever: eg 12.12.12. You irrationally wonder if your date is a bit rubbish.

The big details 
First, the venue. You realise that nine out of ten venues are either unsuitable or naff. And the one you really want is twice your budget (and this is before you realise your initial budget estimate is woefully low). You come to terms with the fact that compromises have to be made. Besides, even if you could afford the one you really wanted, you realise while trawling wedding blogs later on in the planning process that you really wish you were getting married in a barn / museum / lighthouse. This is your first real moment of wedding envy. Don't worry, there'll be plenty more where that came from.

Next, the dress. I won't dwell too long on the dress because a) I've devoted several blog posts to it already and b) it's deeply different and personal to every bride. All I can say is don't rush it. If you're anything like me and hadn't spent much time looking at wedding dresses before you got engaged, then take your time. The styles you like initially will probably change as your wedding planning progresses a bit further. And, even if you do buy one you absolutely adore with every fibre of your being, you will still lie awake at night wondering if you made the right decision.  

The little details 
Nothing can prepare you for the time, deliberation and doubt that accompanies the little details. From colour scheme, to bridesmaid dresses, to jewellery, make-up and hair, not to mention stationery, centrepieces and flowers. And favours. And music. And activity packs for all the children that you got guilted into inviting. You will learn to hate these details, and yet be delighted when you find the absolutely perfect thing. You will simultaneously realise that NOBODY ELSE CARES, while also knowing that you won't rest until you've got it absolutely right. You care, even if no one else does.

The conversations 
You start out trying not to be that person: you know, the girl who gets engaged and then talks of nothing else for a year. You know your friends and family have their own stuff going on, and of course you still care about that. But it gets increasingly hard not to bring every conversation back to the topic of the wedding. Can you help it that almost everything reminds you of one wedding detail or another?

The boredom 
That said, it's not all ooh-ing over mood boards and mantilla veils. Yep, it eventually gets boring planning your big day. Sometimes you reach a self-inflicted saturation point, and feel like blowing a raspberry at the next person who asks: "How's the wedding planning going?" It can last a day or a couple of months, but trust me there will be times when you feel like enough is enough.

The budget
To paraphrase Douglas Adams: I love our wedding budget. I like the whooshing sound it makes as it flies by. You start off at the beginning with a figure in mind, which is rapidly adjusted upwards once you realise how a) how much wedding crap costs and b) you both have more friends and family than you realised, and therefore your intimate wedding of 50 is looking more like a shindig of 90-odd. But you figure that, once you've nailed down the cost of the big things – venue, food, music, dress, rings – you can do lots of DIY and eBaying to keep down the costs of the little things. Forget it. There is always something you've forgotten or underestimated. We are nine months in and still realising that. Take your number and add on at least 10% (and count yourself lucky if that's all you need).

When it all starts being real 
You spend weeks and months planning your wedding, and can see it all clearly in your mind – you have every last detail and decoration worked out perfectly. And then the real world kicks in. You see, this wedding is much, much bigger than just you and your H2B. It can be a shock when you realise that plenty of other people have a stake in it too. The distant cousins asking your dad when they should book flights, the assumptions from various corners over who's been invited (or not invited!), the requests to bring children from people you didn't think would even want to come in the first place. This is one of the most stressful realisations: you're not only planning a beautiful commitment between you and your other half, you're planning a whole event for dozens and dozens of people. Mare!

The nerves 
These kick in at random moments, usually when the flurry of details big and small recede for a while and you stare face-on at the reality of the wedding day itself. You picture it: just you, gripping onto your dad's arm, about to enter a church full of people all ready to turn and stare. The butterflies start up in your belly and you quickly grab the laptop and start comparison shopping flower girl dresses. No point in dwelling on the scary stuff until you really, really have to…  

The big build-up 
You sometimes feel like you'll never get there, but there will come a time when you realise that pretty much all the details are either sorted or decided on, and the countdown to the big day begins. Sure, there are favours to put together, a table plan to write and so on, but it's all nailed down in your to-do list.

This wedding is coming… And you can't quite imagine what it will be like when it's all over and done with.

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