Why I’m Not A Bridezilla

Let’s face it – you expected me to be. I think even Andy, as well as he knows me, harbored a few not-so-secret fears that I would turn into some crazed bride-to-be, power-hungry with a sense of bridal entitlement that pushed reason, manners, and simple human decency aside. He all but banned the “Bridezillas” show from our home out of concern that I would be influenced by the bad behavior exhibited there.

I’ll admit that it’s a fair assumption for people to think I could slip easily into Bridezilla mode. I’ve certainly thrown my fair share of tantrums over the years, had many a diva moment, and perfected a drive for perfectionism and precision that has baffled friends. (Case in point: Suzie noticed my first-ever typo in an e-mail message this past month – the first one in seventeen years of sending e-mail messages to her.) But as that e-mail slip-up attests, I’ve grown much more relaxed in the last ten years, so the idea of turning into a Bridezilla at this stage of the game just seems too exhausting to entertain. (It takes an exorbitant amount of energy to stage a proper conniption.)

For those that really know me, this should come as no surprise. The really important and meaningful events of my life have never been heralded with fanfare and over-the-top production – they’re quiet, shared by a few, and silently emboldened by the very privacy that surrounds and protects them. I’ll save the hype and hoopla for silly parties and projects, but not my wedding.

So for those expecting a show, I’m afraid I’m going to disappoint… at least until the reception party. In the meantime, there’s always WEtv.

{Photographs of my wedding raincoat. Just in case…}

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