If you are getting married: this is definitely something you will argue about
The location is arranged, the date is set, and we are super happy. But yes, it is suddenly already the end of January. And in four months, we will say the most important ‘yes’ ever to each other.
That's quite a lot to take in. Just four tiny months. That's, believe it or not, about one hundred and twenty days – oh my god – to arrange everything. I haven't tasted half a cake, chosen a single flower, or even tried on one shoe to wear under my dress. Where do I get bridal makeup? When should I try out my hairstyle? And don't you have to register first? My god. Panic. But: I have the dress. Thank goodness I was on time with that. It helped that I knew exactly what I wanted. Of course, I can't reveal that just yet, because imagine if my future husband reads this. He will only see my dress when I walk down the aisle with my father on my arm. Oh, that moment. Hopefully, my mother will cry a little from happiness. And I expect at least a tear from my sisters; otherwise, I would find it a bit awkward.
Anyway. Just four little months left. Now the stress begins, dear girls. The real stress. And so, in this love nest, we also bicker regularly. What my boyfriend is good at? Practical, goal-oriented, business thinking. How many square meters should the tent for the party be, how much power do the instruments of the band need, and yes, let's create a path so that women don't have to walk through the grass in their heels. I'm mainly thinking about light pink flowers in my bridesmaid's basket, the sweet ‘You've made our day’ gifts to give to our guests afterward, and the gold-printed wedding invitations with eucalyptus branches in the envelope. There must be a difference. Something with man and woman, I think.
Small or large
And so I let him ponder over tents, power outlets, and walking paths. And he lets me chatter about cakes with peonies, jugs of lavender-colored water on a wooden table, and whether or not to have two hairdressers on the day to take care of our mothers' and sisters' hair as well. A neat division of tasks. But there is one thing we absolutely cannot agree on. And that thing we have to do together. And that is: the guest list. I want it to be a bit bigger, with more and more people. He doesn't. He wants it small and intimate. Huge argument.
So nowadays it goes something like this at our home:
“Honey, you haven't seen those people in at least eight years! And neither have I! No, they’re not coming, you know. Don't you know what it costs, per guest, for the whole day?”
“No, I don't know, luckily not, and besides, I have seen them! Last August, at the Gay Pride, and drank beer with them at the Amstelveld! Ha!”
“That doesn't count! I could invite the bartender from the pub around the corner too! Or do you want me to wear a name tag that day? Because I think as the groom, I won't know anyone at my own wedding.”
“You won't even notice those five extra people! And I think they are nice, that's what matters, right? And for that amount, it doesn't make a difference, those five. But you know what? Fine. Then at least those only friends of yours from the past don't have to come. Because I definitely haven't seen them in eight years. And not at the Gay Pride last summer either.”
The count is now at one hundred seventy people. They say it's the most beautiful day of your life, right?
