Goin’ To The Chapel: Flying Solo

PW associate editor Anastasia Kotsosavas is getting married (to a guy with an equally long, equally Greek last name). In eight months, she’s going to walk down the aisle come hell or high water (or even worse: rain). She’ll be chronicling all her crazy planning experiences here—including the quest for the perfect dress. Donations can be sent to the PW offices.

By now I’ve been to my fair share of venders trying to plan this wedding. The one thing that stands out to me is the question I get every time I call for a consultation. “Is mom coming with you?”

I remember the first time I heard it. Last fall, I’d gone with my BFF Roula to look for her wedding dress. They sat her down and told her to fill out a form. Kinda weird but I figured it was standard operating procedure; you do it at the dentist office, right? When the bridal consultant came over, she asked Roula, “Is your mother going to help you make your final decision?”

Roula was horrified. Although her mother is a perfectly nice lady and probably would’ve had a small impact on which dress she selected, Roula was appalled on my behalf.

My mother passed away when I was 16 years old. Although I’ve come to terms with it, dealing with others who haven’t is always a sticky situation. When someone broaches the subject of moms in my presence, my friends and family always get squeamish. I guess they assume bringing up the subject reminds me, makes me upset. I sometimes want to point out that I don’t a need a reminder.

This fact has made many situations uncomfortable. Once in class a teacher singled me out and asked me whether my mother and I got along. I just nodded. I’ve always found this the easiest route. I find myself trying to spare the other persons feelings so that they don’t get upset. When I tell them that my mother has died, they always seem so heartbroken and mortified. Then I have to convince them for five minutes about how totally fine I am and that it didn’t hurt my feelings. It’s a tireless routine I have down pat.

These isolated incidences never really prepared me for the bombardment of mother inquiries during wedding planning. Almost every person has asked me about my mother. When I show up with an aunt or my mother-in-law they just assume that they are my mother and address them as that without question. If I ever show up alone, I get sad puppy faces as if I’m a friendless orphan that no one really loves. I sometimes imagine telling them my situation and then bursting into fake tears just to prove a point.

Really, people. In this day and age with the divorce rate skyrocketing and all the terrible diseases that can befall us, is this really an appropriate question? I know I’m not the only one out there with a sensitive situation. These people must’ve encountered someone else worse off than me. And although the movies have emblazoned the vision of mother and daughter planning a picturesque wedding in our minds, the cold reality is that it’s just not that way most of the time.

I know I’m going to cry at my wedding because my mom’s not there but I’m not going to break down at the Bridal Garden. If I’ve gotten this far I think I can make a few more decisions on my own. So stop asking me.

* Written by Anastasia Kotsosavas