On (not really) Being a Bridezilla

Towards the end of the series, I got into watching the show Bridalplasty. Brides are competing in various challenges to win plastic surgery, and the winner gets this big, fab, expensive wedding and all her "wishlist" surgery done. At the end of each episode, other brides choose to RSVP to someone's table, and the bride with the least RSVPs goes home. The host tells the losing bride, "Your wedding will still go on; it just won't be perfect."

Hold. The. Phone. Stop. It. Right. Now. Are. You. Serious?

Let's be clear about something - I am a control freak. I live by my color-coded planner and closet, and I have a difficult time believing that my way is not the absolute most efficient and well-planned way of accomplishing whatever task is at hand. I thought I'd be a bridezilla. Some of my bridesmaids thought I'd be a bridezilla. I'm sure all of you thought at least once that I would be a bridezilla. But, by the grace of God, I've actually be pretty chill. In fact, I've had several people say, "This is your ONE chance to let it be all about you! You realize you're being TOO lax, right?" Well, maybe. Maybe not.

Here's the thing: On June 10, 2011 at (around) 7:00 PM I will be walking down the aisle to marry the man of my dreams and become Mrs. Beeler and spend the rest of my life with the funniest, kindest, most handsome, charming, and overall best person for me I could've ever imagined. I will be surrounded by six of the most amazing women to grace this earth. I will have my family, my friends, my co-workers, and the random church janitor there to oohh and awh and whatnot.

Yes, something will go wrong. Events ALWAYS have glitches. It might rain. The florist might show up with pink and purple flowers instead of my beloved sunflowers. I might break a heel on my amazing yellow shoes. Heck, I might fall down the aisle. My dear friend might slip up on the words to the verse she's reading. The organist might play the wrong song. I might run out of programs or birdseed or napkins. Someone might forget the rings. Marble Slab might bring the wrong flavor of icecream. Someone might have a severe nut allergy I'm unaware of. The table linens may be off-center. My grandmother might flip out that we're serving alcohol. RevDocJLa might not ever get off the carousel until the end, so her legs might not work properly. People will choose Bonnaroo over our wedding. Who knows? Something will go wrong. As with everything else in my life, I've made the best plans I can, and it will be what it will be.

But one thing that will absolutely not be affected by anything that might go wrong: Me becoming Mrs. Patrick Beeler.

For this to happen, my bridemaids don't need to have matching dresses or shoes. I don't have to serve traditional wedding cake. I don't have to have gigantic centerpieces or fancy linens on my reception tables. I don't have to be getting married on a Saturday. I'm still going to be marrying the man of my dreams.

Before you former or future Bridezillas lash out at me, I know there are many women out there who've dreamed of this big, "perfect" wedding with matchy-matchy maids and the perfect food at the perfectly set tables. The wedding industry makes big, big, big bucks off these dreams. There is absolutely nothing wrong with women or men who have these dreams. Everyone deserves to have their version of a perfect wedding. This is ours.

We're getting married at the church I've wanted to be a member of and get married in since I was a little girl. We're having our reception at a place that brings out our childish side. We're serving food we love. We're being surrounded by people we love. We could not be happier. Something will go wrong. But, unless he decides not to show up, the only thing that really must go right, will.

This past week I got some really great advice. A woman I look up to a lot told me to step back two days before the wedding and remember that it's all been planned, it's all being taken care of. If I'm worried about something, I'll pass it off to my mom or his mom or those wonderful bridemaids and girlfriends of mine. She told me to remember that this is our party. Our party. Not anyone elses. I sure don't want to miss it. I will enjoy our wedding day - with all it's beauty and wonder and quirks.

Disclaimer: I hope each and every one of you holds me to this.

If you want to hear God laugh, just tell him your plans.