So… my man friend asked me to be his lady for life a few months ago. The proposal was super sweet and an adorable moment that I’ll cherish forever and blabber on to my grandchildren about while they ignore me and play with the iPhones that are undoubtedly implanted in their brains (because we all know that’s coming next). But, in all honesty, him “popping the question” probably wasn’t as life-changing and momentous as it is for some people. We’ve been together for a LONG time, so we were basically that couple that seemed married without the piece of paper to prove it.
I had assumed that when he put a ring on it and made things official, not too much would change. And, I was right. Our relationship continued on as normal. He kept leaving his dirty socks/keys/wallet for me to find all over the house, and I kept complaining about picking them up. For all intents and purposes, our relationship remained as it was before, except I now had a really nice piece of jewelry on my left hand.
Something that I didn’t expect to change, however, was me. But, I did. Before our engagement, my mind was filled with everything from tidbits about my career and finances to trail mix recipes and really useless song lyrics. After our engagement, my mind was filled with questions and all around panicking. Am I a summer wedding person or a fall wedding person? Am I plated dinner type of gal or a buffet lover? I really don’t want to pay for engagement photos, but am I supposed to have them?!
Getting engaged is exciting, but it’s also a little stressful and overwhelming… and somewhat hilarious. Here are just a few of the things that ran through my mind the few weeks after getting engaged.
“How does the Internet know I’m engaged?”
Like any normal twenty something, we posted the news of our engagement on Facebook because one, we all just really like attention and two, it’s simply the fastest way to share the news with a large group of “friends” (like I actually have 700 real life friends, but whatever). It only took a few days, but all of a sudden there was a discernible shift in my Facebook advertisements. I went from being targeted for clothing boutiques and pizza (Facebook just understands my love of food, apparently), to bridesmaids dresses and wedding invitations. It’s nice that you’re trying to help and all, Facebook, but you’re really just stressing me out. I miss my advertisements for new cars and personalized coffee mugs. Wah.
“Who is this person, and why are they ‘liking’ my Facebook engagement announcement?”
Let me just give you a heads up that people come out of the woodwork when there’s news of an engagement. People that I haven’t talked to in literal years reached out to me after hearing I was engaged. I could give them the benefit of the doubt and assume that they just wanted to congratulate me and my hubby-to-be… but I think they all just really want to be invited to the wedding. Is that negative of me? Probably. But it’s also honest. Whatever, you can all come. Just make sure you bring gifts. Just kidding… sort of.
“I’m going to have the BEST wedding ever!”
Romantic visions and delusions of grandeur filled my brain for the few weeks after getting engaged. If you have seen it on one of the 14,573 wedding shows that exist on TLC, you can bet I was going to have it at MY wedding. Big band music, personalized Tiffany jewelry for the bridesmaids, a custom cake topper and a dress from Kleinfelds. I was going to have it ALL. My wedding was going to be straight out of my dreams and the “princess day” I have been waiting for my WHOLE ENTIRE LIFE. Prepare for the wedding of the year, people.
“How the hell do I afford all of this?”
Shortly after I had my heart set on a string quartet and a hand-beaded veil, reality set in. This stuff isn’t free… and weddings ain’t cheap! Did you know that the average American wedding costs over $28,000? Don’t ask me to provide charts and studies to back that number up… I just Googled it and it was the first number I saw. So, we’re goin’ with it. But, really? Almost $30,000?!!? Do you know the things I could do with that money?! I could completely eliminate my student loans. I could buy a new car… a really nice car at that! And furthermore, where are people even getting this money? Did they all hit the lotto or is there just a money tree somewhere that nobody’s telling me about? Maybe these couples have their parents pay for their entire wedding, but there’s no way I’d expect my parents to fork over that kind of cash. They already helped me pay for college, the poor schmucks.
“Oh my God, my wedding is going to suck.”
Well, now that we’ve determined I basically can’t afford a wedding, let’s accept the fact that this whole shindig is just going to blow chunks. Fine, I can’t pay for a chocolate fountain or monogrammed cocktail napkins. I think paper napkins could be kind of a low-key, rustic touch, and all of the guests would appreciate a bite-sized Snickers at each place setting. Oh, who am I kidding? Nobody is even going to want to come to our wedding because it’s GOING TO SUCK.
“Ok, which friend do I like the most/who is going to tolerate me sobbing over napkin rings?”
This can happen totally innocently and subconsciously, but you’re going to start ranking your friends. If you’re planning on having a somewhat traditional wedding, you’ll need to select your bridesmaids and your maid of honor. And, unfortunately, this isn’t always an easy process. I didn’t want to think this way… but it just happens. I started having literal debates inside my head about which friends I not only liked better and felt closer to, but which ones would make better bridesmaids. Obviously, you want your bridesmaids to not only be your closest friends, but also people that you trust to not send Snapchats of you peeing while they hold your dress. So, basically, all of my friends are ruled out.
“This ring has me feelin’ all fancy!”
I’ve never really been a “diamonds are a girl’s best friend” type of gal… that’s what my dogs are for. But, after getting an engagement rock placed on my left hand, I’m ashamed to admit that I became that girl that just stared at her ring. My ring is (by far) the nicest piece of jewelry I own. I can be in sweatpants and a ripped t-shirt, have my ring on and I still feel like the Queen of Sheba. For the first week or so, I watched my ring closer than I watch presidential election results. “Oh, this is what my ring looks like while I’m typing!”, and “Oooooh, look at what my ring looks like while I’m doing the dishes!” and even “Look at how much my ring sparkles as I fix my hair to subtly (aka not so subtly) show off my new ring!”. Horrifying, but true.
I’ve promised myself that I will never be a “bridezilla”, but I also told myself that I wouldn’t be that crazy girl that refers to herself as a “we” and has over 200 pins on her Pinterest wedding board (REAL STATISTIC HERE, EVERYBODY). So, I guess we’ll just see what happens. I can only hope that if I start breathing fire and throwing full on tantrums over seating charts and signature cocktails, my family and friends will reign me back in. You hear me, guys?!!?