I’m the one running this here show

Aside from the irrational fear of having my groom usurped by some beautiful, brilliant home wrecker, I just can’t get my head around the idea of having a wedding planner.

I very much enjoy being in control. I’m not a dominant type person, but let’s just say that I have some decidedly alpha tendencies. I’d probably be suspicious of her, “Is she thinking of something stupid right now?”

And if, indeed, she were thinking of something stupid, I probably wouldn’t have the heart to tell her I hated it.

Additionally, I have a deep-seated aversion to paying people to do things I am perfectly capable of doing myself. Yep, I find lawn mowing services to be shamefully wasteful unless you are on vacation or laid up from surgery or a little old lady with no family or something like that. Besides, I look perfectly darling in my mowing hat.

I also feel like planning your wedding is a rite of passage or something. That the wedding is also about the journey and not just the destination. Or something heavy like that.  I suppose that it’s something that society has artfully snuck into my brain. “I’m not a real bride if I don’t want to focus on every detail”

The reverse could also be true. Years of messages from society maybe taught me  “If I don’t have a planner, I’m the worst kind of bride imposter. I am doomed to have a common and vulgar wedding.”

And the world of bridal magazines and websites and books sow seeds of doubt into my mind, telling me that planning a wedding is HARD, and I’ll become some unrecognizable cranky bitch of a “bridezilla” that my fiance will not love, that my job performance will suffer due to my preoccupation, and that this is too hard to do on my own.

Like most everything in life, the truth is probably a little of all of them.  A little good and a little bad. After all, if I didn’t have conflicting thoughts, there would be no need for any dichotomy of mind whatsoever. But my decision is made now. No wedding planner.

Wish me luck!

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