They say that no wedding would be complete without a meltdown. Knowing this, I was determined to be the very first bride not to go down that path. And in fact, excepting a few minor (relatively speaking) flare-ups, I kept it together right up until the very end.
And then The Incident happened.
The day before the wedding, Mr Breezy and I were enjoying a rare moment of pre-wedding down time with our friends. We were on the beach and Mr Breezy decided he’d use this opportunity to go to the market just down the road from the resort to buy some cigars. He enlisted his friend J to accompany him and they left, saying they were going to drop by the room first to grab some cash. He asked me if I wanted him to take anything with him back to the room. I said, “No thanks, we’re fine,” and they were off.
About half an hour later, I changed my mind and decided to go back to the room after all.
I opened the door to our gigantic suite and dumped my beach bag on the floor. And as I walked in towards the lounge area of our room, I spotted something out of the corner of my eye.
Something in the bedroom.
Something big.
Something white.
I stopped and my jaw dropped as I turned to see my wedding dress hanging from the rail of our four poster bed… IN FULL VIEW OF THE DOOR THROUGH WHICH I KNEW MR BREEZY HAD COME ONLY 30 MINUTES BEFORE.

(This photo was taken the next day but it will give you an idea of what I saw. Picture the doors flung wide open and the dress positioned so the long white train is spread out dramatically all over the bed.)
So wait a second here.
I had just spent eleven months hiding photos of my wedding dress, and then the actual dress itself, from the prying eyes of Mr Breezy, only to have him walk into our room and see it in plain view the day before the wedding?!?!
WHAT. THE. %$#@ ??????????????
*Cue meltdown - complete with body-wracking sobs, hair pulling and rivers of snot.*
I was devastated over the fact that Mr Breezy had seen my dress (c’mon, it’s a pretty common thing to want it to be a surprise, right?) but in retrospect, I think the intensity of my meltdown had a lot to do with stress. All the problems and worries and sleeplessness of the previous weeks and days had finally gotten to me and, seeing an outlet, run straight for it at full speed.
So I did the only thing I could: I had myself a real good, hard, furious, raging cry.
As soon as I pulled myself together enough to string a sentence together, I picked up the phone to get that wedding coordinator on the line and demanded an explanation.
You see, I had left my dress and the guys’ outfits with Sandra to get them steamed, with the expectation they were to be delivered to us the morning of the wedding. Well, she had absolutely no explanation for why I had received them a day early. That is, not then, anyway. When we met with her post-wedding, she tried to tell us she had said the items would be delivered “in time” for the wedding but not necessarily the day of which was ridiculous. After all, the groom and I were sharing a room; when else could they be delivered, pray tell? And if she had indeed at any point suggested the dress might be delivered any time other than right before I needed it, don’t you think I would have asked her to deliver it to one of our many friends’ rooms instead?
There was nothing she could do, since the damage was done, but I made it clear how upset and disappointed I was, if for no other reason than to press upon her the importance of the mistake. I didn’t want anyone else to have to go through that.
And what did Mr Breezy think about this whole mess? Well, when I finally saw him he told me that the dress must have been delivered right after he was in the room because he didn’t see it. Even his friend J - who is THE biggest joker on the planet - swore up, down and sideways that they hadn’t seen the dress. And so I fully believed them.
It was only several days after the wedding that Mr Breezy confessed. He said knew how important it was to me and he didn’t want to see me hurting any more, so he told me he hadn’t seen the dress when in fact, he had. I think it’s one of the most romantic things he’s ever done. Don’t you?
Did you have a pre-wedding meltdown and if so, what triggered it?
DW in the DR: Pack It Up, Pack It In
DW in the DR: Airport Confessions
DW in the DR: Bienvenidos a Punta Cana
DW in the DR: The Guest List Is In the Bag
DW in the DR: The OOTs in Action
DW in the DR: Planning the Reception
DW in the DR: Planning the Flowers & Cake
DW in the DR: Planning the Ceremony
DW in the DR: Planning the Photography
DW in the DR: Stag and Showerette
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