An Open Apology to Anyone I've Ever Called Bridezilla

I would like to here and now apologize to anyone and everyone I have ever called bridezilla ... you won't know who you are because it certainly wasn't said to your face. I may be snarky, but I'm not dumb enough to poke a bear like that.

And this is how I know it's time to apologize ... When I got engaged in December everything was a breeze. I had almost my entire guest list finished by mid-January. I ordered invitations early, had gifts ready, dress ordered and all my ducks in a row. That was the problem. You have everything set, things are rocking along, and then something or someone throws a tiny, itty bitty, wrench into your game plan and you LOSE YOUR S#%T. So girls, I get you. I get the meltdowns and breakdowns and looking like a deranged, irrational, five year old. When there are one million things going through your mind for months on end, there is no room for changes or error. It may seem like it's something tiny to everyone else, but to you this is YOUR WEDDING, and up until now, it is probably the biggest event of your entire life. That alone adds pressure. 

Speaking of pressure. The amount we brides put on ourselves in insane. You don't even realize it until well into planning that you've committed yourself to lose 20 pounds, plan 99% of this wedding alone, prepare to move to a new home (or have someone move into yours), redecorate everything because you're supposed to look like a sophisticated married person after the wedding, make everyone in your wedding party feel extra special, find a brand new outfit for EVERY SINGLE EVENT, write no less than 2,356 thank you notes, spend every last dime of savings you have, and still maintain a full time job and your sanity. You can't have it all, and the sanity is the first to go. The money is the second.

It's silly, but the struggle is there. Oh, how I sat all high and mighty and thought I would never be THAT person. Karma, you sneaky bitch. As the time gets closer, the ability to hold the crazy in gets much harder. Basically, I've resorted to crying at any and everything at the drop of a hat. No one is safe. And no location is off limits ... attention Walmart shoppers. 

So girls, I am sorry. Sorry for thinking you were overreacting (which you were, but so am I), sorry for thinking you were shallow, sorry for thinking you didn't appreciate all of the wonderful stuff that was happening in your life (the appreciation is more than there, but people only take notice of the psychotic breakdowns), and more than anything, I am sorry I have become one of you.

Cheers to a lifetime of happiness (no way I'm doing this AGAIN) and to still having a groom, family and friends by the time you get to the alter.