I hate our wedding. Okay that's not true; I hate planning our wedding. This is not what I wanted. I didn't want to have to think about the fact that if we didn't invite all of our first cousins (legitimately about 50 people on the low end of the estimate - without spouses or dates) that certain other relatives wouldn't come. I think I stated in an early blog post that I didn't want this "wedding" because family dynamics stress me the eff out. Add to that the fact that I am super hard on myself and desperately seek the approval of my family and you've got a recipe for a big huge meltdown ... or rather a number of big huge meltdowns that are occurring with an alarming and increasing frequency.
I love my family. But there's a lot of them. I not only have my mom and dad to think of but also my stepdad. My mom and stepdad have been married basically, like, forever or at least 20 years, and though I don't love the fact that my parents are divorced, I love all of them. I love all the people that make up my overly complicated 20th century blended family. And the idea of disappointing any part of any of those branches of my family is upsetting. Then you have to take into account that whole thing about joining my family with Fiance's family. That's a shit-ton more people to have to consider. If I'm being honest, I'm totally overwhelmed. Fiance (or rather, his family) think we need to invite a lot more of his family than were sent Save-the-Dates, not because they think they'll come but because "it's what should be done". And, sweet Christ, don't even get me started on that whole thing with my sister (because you will drive me to at least one full bottle of wine and a lot of crying).
Then there's the fact that I have not and will not (or most likely not - unless I'm beaten to the psychological equivalent of a bloody pulp) invite the entirety of my extended family. There's a lot of them. With the exception of my Dad and Fiance's Dad, the Dobbsmantea parentals have large families. Considering my Mom and Stepdad aren't Catholic, the number of children in their families is kind of impressive. Add to that Fiance's mother, who is from a SUPER Catholic family and has NINE siblings and you're making for an inordinately huge guest list. With all sides of the family included, I can't avoid disappointing someone. My paternal grandmother (WOG) wants me to invite the children of her siblings and their children. My stepfather has familial pressure for us to invite all of his siblings and their children (there's a lot of them) - but to be fair he fully supports our decision to make our own guest list, and have a "small wedding" and has voiced that support to his family.
But our "small wedding" is currently approaching 150 invites. And, yeah, we know some (hopefully about a third ... at least) of those definitely won't come. But with every day passing, I get more stressed. I have nightmares. I think of the wedding and my breath catches in my throat - not out of excitement or emotion regarding that whole joining my life to that of Fiance's - but out of fear and stress and the idea that we'll disappoint everyone while trying to please everyone. I honestly can't think of anything worse than planning this whole damn wedding in order to please all the outside influences and then having it fail. I didn't want this wedding. I still don't. But all I can think of is that after all the work I've put into (and will put into) this stupid wedding, people will still be disappointed. They will still be upset and I won't be any happier for having done all the work. Our wedding isn't even a big fancy affair. God help me if we were planning the typical wedding in a hotel ball room with two hundred guests and a seated dinner and fancy cocktail hour and fancy rehearsal dinner ... ugh the idea of it makes me want to puke.
All of these things combined make me want to roofie Fiance and book us a flight to Vegas. I want to be married. I literally cannot wait to be married to Fiance. The idea of spending my life with him is probably the most exciting thing I can think of. I know he loves me. I love him. I can't imagine my future without him. But the next three months make me want to stab someone. Unfortunately, he's always the person closest by. I find myself keeping my frustration from Fiance because when it comes up, I find myself super frustrated with him. It's not like he hasn't offered to help, but I just feel like, since I've planned everything up 'til now, that he's not capable of (or interested in) doing it. And I feel ashamed of that. Fiance is a very bright and capable man, but I just doubt his devotion to this damn wedding.
Then again, can you blame the guy? I make the whole thing sound so freakin' enticing. Normal people don't volunteer themselves for hours spent considering paper goods and coach busses and limos and flowers of about a thousand different types. They also don't volunteer themselves for that whole god-awful budget thing. Watching our expenses pile up makes me nauseous, and our wedding isn't even that expensive. When I request assistance from Fiance, I then also micromanage his every move. And nag. Ugh, I'm "That Girl". It's really unattractive - but then again psychotic people generally aren't that attractive, I suppose.
I really had hoped to avoid being that girl. I don't want to nag Fiance - that's so ... typical. Typical isn't really my style. I'm really hoping we're gonna get through this unscathed - my mental health is already compromised but in the end, I suppose all that matters is that we're married. That's over three months from now though, so, keep your fingers crossed. Who knows who I'll stab in the interim.