The Anti-Bride

So now that I have finished my MA and I am all set to graduate I realized something. I am getting married. Like, really friggin soon. I am getting married in less than three months. CRAZY. All of a sudden I find myself faced with all these questions that I actually have to answer and all this CRAP I have to do in less than three months. For the last year or so that I have been engaged I have been able to sluff off the “OMG YOU MUST BE SO EXCITED AND IN TOTAL PLANNING MODE!” shrieks from girls with a “yes, well, I am working on my Master’s so I haven’t had much time to think about it.” Except now I am done.

And I am facing some insane questions that I actually have to answer and pretend that I care about whether or not the decorations match the bridesmaids dresses exactly. You see, I am a bit of an anti-bride. Not to be confused with a person who doesn’t want to get married, because the Fiance was a bit perturbed when I used the term, “anti-bride,” as he believes it implies that I don’t want to get married. I do. (no pun intended) I am just a little overwhelmed with the whole process.

You see, there is the type of person who just “fits” the bride mode. Think Carrie Bradshaw in the Sex and the City movie. She was ROCKIN’ all those dresses. She even rocked a dead bird on her head and looked all bridal:

I’m sorry it’s just not me. So this week when I finally took the time to figure it out I realized that I need to get my head in the game and tackle this thing. I forgot to send in the venue contract, I forgot to proof the wedding invitations, I still haven’t figured out what the groom or the groomsmen are going to wear, and frankly it’s all a little crazy. On top of it all I have a nutso family, where grandma on mom’s side tells me that my wedding is too casual, or that my hair color is awful, and grandma on the other side is still undecided about even attending my wedding because she doesn’t want to leave her dogs alone. HER DOGS. My extended family in that respect is not what I would call, well, easy.

As a result, I am an anti-bride. Here’s an example of how I am handling the questions thrown at me:

Guy: “Are you so excited?”

Me: “About what?”

Guy: “Your wedding?”

Me: “Oh yeah! That!”

Guy: “Are you in mega planning mode?”

Me: “Is that beer?” walking away….

or, the other scenario, at work:

Girl: “Where did you get your dress?”

Me: “What dress?”

Girl: “Your wedding dress?”

or my personal favorite, a conversation between Fiance and I:

Me: “Do you want me to take your last name?”

V (looking up from his computer): “I really don’t care.” (looking back at the screen)

Me: “Okay, I don’t think I am going to. It seems like a lot of work.”

V: Shrugs shoulders, not looking up.

Later that same night,

Mom: “What made you come to that kind of important decision?”

Me: “I like my name, I don’t want to be Mrs. Anyone.”

So that gives you a bit of a hint as to why I am the anti-bride. Don’t get me wrong, the idea of marrying V is possibly the best feeling in the world. He’s my best friend, he makes me laugh, and (at the risk of sounding totally mushy) he’s the love of my life. I have been in love with him since I was seventeen years old. So why the anti-bride-ness? I’m trying to distance myself from having the “dream wedding” and focusing on having a great party. The reason being that I lost my dad when I was 20 to a heart attack. Ever since then I have had to face the fact that every happy occasion in my life from that point on was going to be bittersweet. My college graduation, my wedding, the birth of my first child – I’m always going to be sad that I don’t get to share those moments with him. Because he was awesome, and we were super close. And he would have been so excited to be at my wedding because he really thought V was great.

So in order to keep it from being a very sad occasion, I have decided to shy away from the sentimentality of it all and focus on having an epic party celebrating what an amazing relationship V and I have. My godfather, my uncle, the Commander, will be escorting me down the aisle (my dad was the best man at his wedding) along with my mom, and it will be an all around good time.

So I guess the message behind all this nonsense, is that girls don’t have to be super into tulle, chiffon, decorations, flowers, and dresses in order to have a wedding. Because mine is going to be outta control. And yeah, I’ll show up in a white dress and I’ll probably cry and get all mushy, but hey – I’ll still be the anti-bride.