Please Stop Talking About Your Fantasy Wedding

I mean it. If one more girl tells me about some cliché dream wedding they’ve been planning since their first birthday, I will climb Mt. Everest just to hurl myself off the top. First of all, you didn’t even know what a wedding was on your first birthday, you weren’t even sure why there was cake or what all those people wanted from you by shoving fire in your confused little face. So please stop, because I’m just not interested.

If you want to talk about your boyfriend, great. Or that guy you see on the train every alternate Wednesday and think could be your soul mate. I will stretch my imagination that far. But can we just admit that you’re not a Kardashian and will not be spending a third world country’s yearly budget on your nuptials? Which, by the way, is all I can think of when you go into your endless rant about bridesmaid dresses matching napkin edges (oh yeah, I totally tune you out). The only thing I can think of is how much money, on a practical level, would your wedding actually cost? I’m pretty sure you don’t have access to several million dollars, since you make less than that per year.

I want to blame Disney or celebrity culture, but let’s just all admit both are a fantasy. They are the escapism that lets us deal with and plow through our lives, especially in these times of economic hardship where middle class Americans can only afford one iPhone per person. Maybe when you start talking about this imaginary dream wedding it bothers me because I get nervous that you’re confusing fantasy with reality and setting yourself up for failure. Also I just assume that you’ll be one of those girls with a sense of entitlement to throw a fit every ten minutes on your wedding day. By the way, the more you talk about your wedding when you are not even engaged, the less likely that I will actually go to it.

I also feel uncomfortable that you’re painting this elaborate, detailed wedding picture for yourself, and will just pluck some groom into it at some point. The wedding is one day. You know this, right? It’s just one day? The guy you marry will be with you for a long time, or until you realize that you spent too much time in a fantasy and divorce him for so rudely bringing you back to reality.

What I’ve noticed is that overdone wedding fantasies go hand in hand with ridiculous groom fantasies. 6’3” dark haired green-eyed veterinarian man with 32” shoulders and a love of camping sounds great and all, but he probably doesn’t exist. Also I’m not sure if 32” is a good shoulder measurement, I just kind of threw out a number. And while you’re busy pretending he does exist, you’re missing out on the 5’8” witty journalist with the great taste in music and awesome family who would make you happy in real life and not fantasyland. You can’t tie up your future in a neat little bundle because life is all about throwing you curveballs, and if you imagine your future in any way, it will probably turn out in every other possible configuration.

Listen. It doesn’t make you a bad person. Dresses and frilly things are fun, I agree. I’m not saying don’t imagine your wedding at all, or that I won’t want to be around you if it’s ever crossed your mind. I just feel like as a lady it gets irritatingly difficult to remain sane when lace and party favors aren’t in your realm of interest, because people tend to call you out as some sort of unholy bastion of blasphemy. You need to have those conversations with people who care, and maybe share your affinity for designing fairy tale blab la bla I stopped listening to myself, that’s how little I care about this subject. You may think I’m a bad friend for not sharing all your interests, but maybe you’re a bad friend for expecting me live up to your unrealistic expectations of who I should be as a person, instead of accepting me for who I am.

Think about it – if your expectation of me falls short and annoys you this much, what will happen with your wedding? At least I’m already real.

Photo found on

Share and Enjoy

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Tumblr
  • StumbleUpon
  • Add to favorites
  • Email
  • RSS

About the Author,

There are no rules to life, and that's just fine. Figuring out what relationships are while moving from one city to another, hopping a plane, train or driving cross country yet again, the one thing I know for sure is that romance makes about as much sense as an armadillo in a shoe store. But heck if I won't try to figure it out anyway. Find out more about Julia at