Wedding planning is a nightmare. Literally. I've had wedding related dreams every night for the past couple weeks, and they range from me just staring at a cake like a zombie for two hours - nothing else happened in that dream - to showing up to my wedding with no shoes on, to find that everyone present looks like John Malkovich. 

90 days to go. Three months. 1,314,00 minutes. 

I'm understanding a little better the joy on the faces of the people whose weddings I've attended. I used to think it was just the excitement of beginning the life long journey with the person they loved more than anything. Now I know it's all that, PLUS the joy of knowing you'll never have to price rolls of fake plastic crystals ever again (60 ft for $43.88.)

All the advice from my friends who recently married, that I secretly scoffed at, has turned out to be true. Our budget grew by 40%. Our guest list grew by 53 more people than we had originally wanted to invite (and there are still people I'm upset we have to leave out.) I've caught myself saying, more than once, something as ridiculous as, "$650 for up-lighting isn't that bad, think of how much ambiance it will add!"

While riding in the car with Ryan, to yet another one of our appointments, I had a moment of complete clarity. It made perfect sense why someone like myself, who three months ago swore I wouldn't get carried away with extravagance, was now seriously considering an offer for professionally trained cellists to play the cocktail hour.

Sin.

The wedding industry, like that damn serpent in the garden, taps into our basest, most secretly obvious desires, and exploits them for it's own gain. 

Pride

•     "I deserve to have the best wedding possible, I'm worth it. And I want my wedding to be better than any of my friends."

Envy

•    "My dress needs to be the $5,000 Vera Wang that looks like the one Sara's wore, because hers was gorgeous, and I fell in love with it, and I can't imagine getting married in one that isn't as amazing as that."

Gluttony

• "Of course we need a full open bar, people will think we're cheap if we don't pay for them to drink all night, and that's the best way to have our guests enjoy the wedding."

Anger

• "What is this? This isn't what we ordered! Are you stupid or just lazy? You brought the wrong hor d'oeuvres! I am going to sue you for ruining my wedding!"

Greed

• Well this one is just obvious

Lust

• "I am eating nothing but protein and spending two hours a day at the gym until the wedding because I need to look absolutely perfect on my wedding day, so that everyone will think I am gorgeous and the perfect, sexy-yet-virginal looking bride."

Laziness

• "It's no fun stuffing envelopes and assembling favors all by myself. I'll make my bridesmaids help me. Who cares if they have school or work, this is too hard and I just don't want to do it on my own."

Now don't get me wrong, I'm not saying that anyone who has a cellist or full open bar, or favor-assembling party, is a giant sinner hell bent on ruining everyone's lives to get what they want. Those things are not bad. But believing the lie the wedding industry tells you, that you NEED to have all of these things in order to have a wedding, is. They want to tap into that part of you that says, "I need this, or else everything is ruined." and "My life would be complete, and I would be happy, if I just got this." That's one of the world's greatest lies, and one we all believe almost daily. Me included.

The struggle is in knowing how easy it is to fall down the rabbit hole of greed, admidst planning a big party that costs money, without being unreasonable. About being able to say, "No" and "I don't need that."

I'm lucky that the way things have shaped out, I have vendors who know me, care about me, and are willing to help me, without badgering me into spending more than I can afford. Or trying to tell me my wedding will be ruined without X, Y or Z. Ryan and I will have wonderful food, great music, a beautiful, delicious cake, and all of the things that go into a five figure wedding, without spending five digits, only thanks to these incredible creative people for which I am so, so thankful. But we might not have up-lighting. Or champagne. Or flowers. We might not even have table linens, if I don't get around to calling that lady from that bridal show and asking for a quote.

But none of that matters if at the end of the night, what I am more concerned about is not the color of the napkins, but the person to which I just committed myself for the rest of my life. If that is the focus, no matter what it looks like, the wedding is a success.

I just better not tell that to this guy.