best woman

The best woman

The only advice I can offer, should you find yourself be facing your best friend in her wedding dress, hair just done in a perfect braid, head turning red because of her screaming at you and hands probably ready to punch you in the face, while in the other room, her mother is patiently waiting to walk her to the church – the only advice I can offer is just, not chose me as maid of honor.

Let’s face it: some girls are made to be little Pippa Middelton’s, to organize a perfect bachelorette’s party, with confettis and tequila, with being able to gather all the bride-to-be “BFF’s”, to set up a remarkable, unforgettable evening without the future Mrs. noticing anything. These girls are not me – except for the tequila part. I haven’t developed the skills, have not followed the “Maid of Honor: How to not Screw Things Up” workshop, have not read the “Wedding Witness for Dummies”.

“Are you listening Nina?”

Did I blackout? She’s still screaming. She has a bit of sweat on her forehead and I would like to reach the box of tissues behind her to wipe it off, but my survival instinct is telling me to let her go on with her monologue.

I want to make things clear. When reading this, you might think that I am a bad friend. But let me just say, that is not true and I don’t deserve this judgment. I actually put a lot of efforts not being myself and acting normally from D-7 to D-Day, aka the Wedding Day. I locked my unpredictable, clumsy nature in some small area inside my brain, and tried to be as perfect as possible. I was up at 5 to help her with the make-up, negociated a last minute change with the make-up artist – velvet instead of dark pink lipstick –, I checked like a thousand times that the rings were comfortably installed in my silk blazer pocket, I even stopped the start of a fight between her father and the florist – who was not one, not two, but three hours late.

So, what have I done, you ask? I didn’t witness any family scandal, did not lose the rings, did not sleep with the bride’s brother, did not spill coffee on her Vera Wang gown and did not create a dispute between the other maids.

I’ve done worse.

“Can you just explain to me… once again, how this happened? Today? Nina! Speak!”

She lowers her voice, tries to calm down. She’s even more frightening now. I take a deep breath and say:

“We… I lost your fiancé. I’m not sure how, but I lost him. He is still somewhere on the other side of the border, but at some point, I kind of… lost track of him”.

best woman
©Shardayyy Photography/Unsplash

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