“Excuse me, ma’am,” says a great white ghost hanging contemptuously in the dining room. “Remember me?”
Yep. That’s my wedding dress. Completely un-assembled.
But I just can’t bring myself to do it.
The cause behind the lack of enthusiasm? Maybe I’m experiencing what many other brides do: the second-guess-fear. What if I don’t love it as much as I did the first time I saw it? What if my tastes have changed, and the general consensus really has convinced me that pick-ups are out? What if I haven’t lost enough weight, and I still look like a giant next to Mr. Sew? What if I do a bad job sewing, and it falls apart while I trip down the aisle? What if it gets dirty, and rips to shreds at the dry cleaners?
Neither does it help that Mr. Sew is being oh-so-very-meticulous about the construction of the dress. Even cutting out the pieces took longer than expected due to his demands that each snippet be exact and perfect. Much different than the hasty, but adequate job we did on the mock-up.
Where I deal with my dress fears in avoidance, he deals with his in impossible standards.
Did I mention that I also don’t have a back-up dress? This apparition over my dining table is it. The pressure is on.
And there’s really only one way to answer all the “what-if” questions. And at some point, one just has to bite the bullet and go for it.
So no more hiding from you, wrinkled-spirit in white. I will sew that smug smile right off your face, straight onto my rear end. Just you wait. No looking back, I will begin today.
Did you have any dress fears before receiving your final gown? Did it end up in genuine regret, or sweet reassurance?