Wedding Worry #623: What If No One Shows Up To The Wedding?

Weddings bring out the worst in people. And by “people,” I mean me. And by “worst” I don’t mean in a bridezilla wedding planner kind of way, but in a “confronting my unresolved issues” kind of way.

Confronting issues, I’m discovering, is just another joy of the wedding planning process.

If you’re reading this and you’re thinking weddings are wonderful, blessed events! How can anyone think otherwise? then I envy you. You are living in some happy, shiny alternate universe—a universe in which you have unlimited monetary funds for your wedding, a normal family with whom to celebrate your wedding, and a great therapist with whom to discuss all of your issues, wedding and otherwise. If that's the case, good for you. Really.

But here’s my reality:

1. I work in publishing, which means I’m poor
2. I DO NOT have a normal family and neither does spiceboy (but he hides his better)
3. I have no therapist at all, let alone a good one.

The truth is, the thought of an entire event in which the focus is solely on spiceboy and myself is…unsettling to me. As a rule, I don’t like to attend public gatherings in which I could possibly be called out of the crowd in any way. This includes events involving raffles or prize-winning, work-related team building events, and most of all—parties thrown in my honor.

Ever since I was 5, I’ve been reluctant to let anyone throw a birthday party for me. Once, several years ago, I caught spiceboy trying to plan some sort of surprise birthday extravaganza for me, and I cornered him and asked him to cease and desist immediately, which he did. And we had a quiet, non-party birthday, which I loved.

And how do you define a wedding? Well, if you’re not into the whole Jesus thing, which spiceboy and I definitely are not, it’s basically a huge party. It is, in fact, the hugest party you’ll ever throw.

Given my party aversion, you can imagine what kind of apprehension this wedding thing causes me.

And so, with 221 days to go, I have discovered yet another personal flaw that has been brought to my attention as a result of my pending nuptials, and I'm cataloguing it here for you, dear readers:

I’m deathly afraid that if I throw a party, or if a party is thrown for me, no one will come.

Is this a normal wedding fear? Possibly.

Is this a result of a repressed memory from a failed birthday party of mine back in junior high/high school? Highly Likely.

Is this sudden onslaught of inferiority caused by raging PMS? Almost certainly.

Excuse me, I think I’m going to go eat a tub of cheese fries now.