The Reluctant Bride


The one I want to be with forever and ever just proposed! I’m marrying the love of my life!  Let the heavenly streamers fall from the skies. Cue the angels, sound the trumpets. IT IS HAPPENING!  Life is good, all is perfect in the land of love, except for one little thing:

He wants a HUGE wedding.

Normally, 150 people isn’t considered a large wedding (just ask the Greeks). For me, only child of a two-parent union that was devoid of any supplementary family members like cousins, uncles, aunts, grandparents, 150 people is a VERY BIG DEAL. The very idea makes me break out into a cold sweat. That’s planning every single aspect of a giant, expensive one-day party from napkins to what colors our doves are going to shit. I’ll tell you what color, whatever the opposite of green is. That’s right, the idea of a large wedding is my equivalent of sticking paper money in a shredder and then throwing it around like confetti.

Hrmm… maybe THAT’S what we should use instead of doves?

And with that, all kinds of other thoughts raced through my head: Who do I invite? Will my parents be okay at the same table? Not everyone needs a plus one! Chicken, fish AND beef–what is this, a restaurant? Who’s paying for this, exactly? I stifled my fears and rapidly jotted down my guest list which included my parents, a handful of friends from high school and some co-workers from various jobs. Thirty people total with married plus ones. I was in trouble.

No problem, said my husband-to-be since his nearest and dearest was close to upwards of 100 people. 120 to be exact. No, more like 145, or at least that’s what he told the banquet hall manager.

I quickly did the sum in my head: 30+145=175 and then I did it again.


His face didn’t melt.  Instead, he turned to me, eyes wide with excitement as if to say this is happening. I felt the glee ebb off of him in happy little waves, which deflected my laser death beams and shot them back melting my brooding heart.

During the car ride home, I decided to try one more time. I asked pleaded to have a small tiny wedding:

“You sure we just can’t do it at city hall?”

“Nope!” 🙂

I just looked at him resigned. He doesn’t ask for much, and I can’t deny him this. It’s all about small sacrifices, right?  And so, we are here, at the start of the roller coaster, slowly making our way up on the ramp.

Here. We. Go.



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