I was the maid of honor at my best friend’s bridal late, and I have a questionable confession to create: It was an absolute joy.
Being a bridesmaid is similar to judge duty, which everyone understands but nobody really wants to do, based on what you see on message board and in. The, the, the absurd. If your connection survives your day in bride slave, it does survive anything—but that’s a great “if”.
It’s correct that “my specific time” society has gotten out of hand. Some people use their marriage as an excuse to force their loved ones to jump through as many immoral hurdles as they can imagine, including paying hundreds of dollars to spend on expensive hotels. This never, however, allow these false starts ruin it for the rest of us.
If your engaged friend is n’t the kind of awful, selfish person who will for the sake of their “perfect” vision or to be in her wedding photos, being a bridesmaid is great. Because actually, how enjoyable could these people probably have been before their marriages if they think these demands ( let’s be honest, demands ) are fair? If your friend does n’t suck, being her bridesmaid wo n’t suck either.
The real problem many people have with bridesmaids duties, when they’re not in that outcast type of truly absurd, is that they require active participation and investment ( of both time and money ) in anything that’s not about you—which, in our ever-more-individualistic culture, may feel like a huge ask.
We’ve all grown to be so used to priming our needs and placing ourselves first ( in the creeping vernacular of therapy-speak ), that even the smallest request to wear something special that we would n’t have chosen for ourselves can seem like a huge impossibility. I will say that I bristled when my companion Carly said that she wanted me to use a long-sleeved purple gown, mid-calf or more, for her marriage. A long-sleeved minidress I may work with, or floor-length with spaghetti straps. But much and long-sleeved? And dark. All of the results of my first hunt screamed a traditional Christmas. Just so very much material. Not to mention that she was getting married in Texas in an outdoor ceremony and that the weather was forecasted to be popular. a traditional Christmas with trap spots.
So I grumbled a little bit. But then I remembered Carly’s sweetness, generosity, and accommodating nature, and how uncommon it must be for her to find things simply her way. And how difficult the past few years have been for her, she has been dealing with a significant reduction, surviving, finding love, and choosing to remain optimistic. In reality, if it had cheered up Lady Gaga, she would have worn a Big Bird mask. So I perused the pages and pages of velvet Christmas dresses until I discovered a fishtail Norma Kamali gown with off-the-shoulder ( long-sleeved ). In the end, it was more pleasant to find a costume that Carly would adore than to pick my outfit.
It was also satisfying to choose a stunning resort and to spend more money on pampering her and catching up with her new sisters-in-law ( on top of the dress, shoes, planes, and Airbnb ) than I had actually purchase.
But most of all, it felt so very unique, and straight, to have next to her, holding her large flowers, while she said her commitments. Because that’s what is really lost in all the hordes of bridezillas and power struggles over hairstyles, friends are already involved in the wedding ceremony. Friends are the ones who guide us through adolescence and early adulthood, guide us in identifying our ideal roles and how to function in intimate relationships. Friends teach us how to behave around those we care about and what it takes to feel loved. They guide us through difficult relationships and breakups and advise us on how to approach the right person when we finally find the right one. Therefore, they should only be a part of the ceremony that marks that turning point.
In a class that was crucial for both of us, Carly and I met in college. We eventually took over the student newspaper after we split up, which we then took over for three years. We celebrated our graduation together, both of our families in a local restaurant’s back room—there’s a photo of her grandmother holding my mother’s hand sweetly in both of hers. Through each other’s life-changing experiences, career transitions, and bad dates, we’ve seen each other. We’ve both flown back and forth to attend important life events ( and just-because visits when it’s been too long ), and we regularly speak on the phone and exchange random little presents in the mail. When I got married, she was there with me (yes, in a dress that I picked ). I wanted to be a part of this celebration of the beginning of her life, so yeah. And not just in front of her, but also there, where I’ve always been and always intend to be.
And you know what? My floor-length, long-sleeved red dress looked great with her white sheath. Even if it did n’t, I would have worn it with a smile.