I said yes. And then I said no. Then I said yes again. And I recently said yes once more. For the last time.
To a different dress.
I know things were seeming pretty okay when where we left off. I was feeling good about the dress. Fine, if you will. Since my last post, however, I’ve had a few more (I’m not going to sugar-coat this) meltdowns, all related to the dress in some capacity. I kept trying to make it work somehow, though, attempting to construct a “look” to compensate for my lack of enthusiasm.
My makeup should be dramatic. I need statement jewelry to make the it pop! Maybe a rubber cincher would take a few inches off my waist and give me back the hourglass figure that I thought I had but seems to disappear in the dress?
The problem is: none of these things are me. It began stressing me out. Big time.
This being the case, since the fitting, my mom received more than a couple of tearful calls from me expressing my concerns that I won’t look or feel beautiful on my wedding day. She kept nudging me to go out and see what other shops had to offer. I couldn’t. I felt trapped. The dress was already bought and paid for, and with around six weeks to the wedding I knew how limited my options would be. I didn’t want to go slogging through samples only to come up exhausted and even more disappointed. I was resigned to being fine with my dress. It’s fine. It’ll be fine.
But, really, who wants their wedding dress to be fine?