It was early in the planning process – like way too early, we’re talking maybe a month after he proposed – when I questioned myself on whether or not I was being a “Bridezilla”.
First of all – can we finally banish the whole “Bridezilla” title? A bride is not a malicious creature with fangs and claws who eats people and climbs buildings like a squirrel. This is the equivalent to calling any woman with an opinion “too bossy” or “too loud” – it’s 2020, you should be allowed to have a specific opinion about your own wedding.
Unless your opinion is…. a little bit…. too….. hmm. Okay – unless your opinion makes your level-headed fiancé say – “Seriously. You want to build a deck so that we can get married on the beach and you don’t have to walk in the sand. Seriously?” Any comment that begins and ends with “Seriously. Seriously?” means you might have gone too far. Reign it back. Just a touch.
The deck thing came later. (I mean – I wasn’t actually implying that we should build a deck, I believe my exact words were: “Maybe they can lay down some wood? But, like, maybe the wood could be like, an inch or two off the ground, you know?”) Anywho – that one came after we’d already decided that we would get married in California. Initially we had planned to get married in Chicago, where we met (and live now).