a special role. Just remember that they already know how much you love them, and they love you, too—and they’re not going to hate you if you take your time as you decide what parts they will play in your wedding. They’ll be patient with you, just as you would with them. And, uh, try not to ask them via text message, or two weeks before the wedding, or in the midst of a drunken rampage. Shudder.
SAYING ADIEU TO YOUR SINGLEHOOD
Most brides and grooms still practice the tradition of a bachelor and bachelorette party. If you’re anything like me, you have spent many a happy hour with girlfriends fretting over what sorts of trouble your betrothed’s stupid college buddies are going to get him into. Maybe you’ve called his big brother who’s in med school to make sure he knows how to detect and diagnose the signs of alcohol poisoning. Or maybe you’ve disastrously attempted to issue an ultimatum: “Go to a strip club and you’ll need to find yourself a new fiancée.” Perhaps you’ve stood over him and dictated an email to his bachelor party attendees informing them that since he’s going to be a lawyer when he grows up, he won’t be partaking in consumption of any illegal substances OR streetwalkers. Or possibly you designed one T-shirt for every day of his bachelor party, each with a different menacing photo of your face and a caption saying some version of, “My future wife will kill you if you touch me.”
…Oh. Was that just me? Whoops. To put it bluntly, I had my grundies in a twist long before Dave started planning his bachelor party. Looking back, I had nothing to worry about, but for the record, I’m still glad I printed those T-shirts for him. They were hilarious. I sneaked them into his suitcase the night before he left and made his best friend reveal them to him once they got to the hotel.
I also lucked out, though. Instead of a typical trip to the Vegas strip, Dave wanted to go to Alaska. During the summer solstice. To run a marathon.
Yep. And eighteen of his friends agreed to come with him. They also agreed to wear costumes—Daisy Dukes and suspenders, head-to-toe neon spandex, a clown costume…
Yet I still worried. Would they find some hairy-armed, gun-slinging moose huntress to do a pole dance for him? Would the guys force Dave to drink bourbon through a beer bong and then throw him down the side of a glacier?
It’s really hard to get out of that paranoid mindset, even if you know and love your fiancé’s friends almost as much as he does. Unfortunately, you might just have to spend the weekend feeling uneasy. But here are a couple of things you can do to ease the tension:
Have an open discussion before he goes about what sort of communication you want to have during the party. I asked Dave not to call me during the entire weekend because I knew I would be waiting by my phone, counting the seconds until I heard from him again.
Plan something relaxing and fun with a friend or two during the party. I specifically didn’t want to have our bachelor/ette parties at the same time because I didn’t want either of us to be distracted by worry for one another. Still, treat yourself.
Remember that the whole reason he’s having a bachelor party is that he asked you to marry him—he’ll be thinking about you the whole time. Well, okay, a good chunk of the time.
If you have a close, trusted male friend on the trip, ask him to text you periodically to tell you everything’s okay. Don’t ask for details, just reassurance every so often.
And don’t forget—you get to have your own bachelorette party, as well. For my party, fifteen girls came to a beach house in San Diego. It was just what I wanted: quality time with my girls, sans distractions. We spent each day hanging out and talking, and each night we made girly drinks, had a living room dance party, went out to a couple of bars and reflected—at the ripe old age of twenty-four—on our lost yet unlamented youth.
Dave wasn’t nearly as
SAYING ADIEU TO YOUR SINGLEHOOD
Most brides and grooms still practice the tradition of a bachelor and bachelorette party. If you’re anything like me, you have spent many a happy hour with girlfriends fretting over what sorts of trouble your betrothed’s stupid college buddies are going to get him into. Maybe you’ve called his big brother who’s in med school to make sure he knows how to detect and diagnose the signs of alcohol poisoning. Or maybe you’ve disastrously attempted to issue an ultimatum: “Go to a strip club and you’ll need to find yourself a new fiancée.” Perhaps you’ve stood over him and dictated an email to his bachelor party attendees informing them that since he’s going to be a lawyer when he grows up, he won’t be partaking in consumption of any illegal substances OR streetwalkers. Or possibly you designed one T-shirt for every day of his bachelor party, each with a different menacing photo of your face and a caption saying some version of, “My future wife will kill you if you touch me.”
…Oh. Was that just me? Whoops. To put it bluntly, I had my grundies in a twist long before Dave started planning his bachelor party. Looking back, I had nothing to worry about, but for the record, I’m still glad I printed those T-shirts for him. They were hilarious. I sneaked them into his suitcase the night before he left and made his best friend reveal them to him once they got to the hotel.
I also lucked out, though. Instead of a typical trip to the Vegas strip, Dave wanted to go to Alaska. During the summer solstice. To run a marathon.
Yep. And eighteen of his friends agreed to come with him. They also agreed to wear costumes—Daisy Dukes and suspenders, head-to-toe neon spandex, a clown costume…
Yet I still worried. Would they find some hairy-armed, gun-slinging moose huntress to do a pole dance for him? Would the guys force Dave to drink bourbon through a beer bong and then throw him down the side of a glacier?
It’s really hard to get out of that paranoid mindset, even if you know and love your fiancé’s friends almost as much as he does. Unfortunately, you might just have to spend the weekend feeling uneasy. But here are a couple of things you can do to ease the tension:
Have an open discussion before he goes about what sort of communication you want to have during the party. I asked Dave not to call me during the entire weekend because I knew I would be waiting by my phone, counting the seconds until I heard from him again.
Plan something relaxing and fun with a friend or two during the party. I specifically didn’t want to have our bachelor/ette parties at the same time because I didn’t want either of us to be distracted by worry for one another. Still, treat yourself.
Remember that the whole reason he’s having a bachelor party is that he asked you to marry him—he’ll be thinking about you the whole time. Well, okay, a good chunk of the time.
If you have a close, trusted male friend on the trip, ask him to text you periodically to tell you everything’s okay. Don’t ask for details, just reassurance every so often.
And don’t forget—you get to have your own bachelorette party, as well. For my party, fifteen girls came to a beach house in San Diego. It was just what I wanted: quality time with my girls, sans distractions. We spent each day hanging out and talking, and each night we made girly drinks, had a living room dance party, went out to a couple of bars and reflected—at the ripe old age of twenty-four—on our lost yet unlamented youth.
Dave wasn’t nearly as
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