I Want a Panic-Free Wedding, But So Much Can Go Wrong!(Note: this is the second post in a short three-part series about my upcoming nuptials.)

Only a few days left, and I’m still ruminating about everything that could go wrong on the big day. Let’s see how many of my worries I could formulate into a list or two:


  • It will rain all over my outdoor wedding.
  • It’ll be so humid that I’ll feel sick and unable to breathe.
  • I’ll get panicky during the ceremony, feel the need to sit down, but be unable to.
  • I’ll trip while walking down the aisle.
  • Some crucial part of my dress will snap off.
  • I’ll cry and find myself unable to stop.
  • I’ll pass out at the altar.
  • I’ll throw up at the altar.
  • Everyone will be looking at me when I throw up and then pass out at the altar.


  • The power will fail and we’ll be left without lights or music.
  • Extra guests who never RSVP’ed will show up, and we won’t have tables for them.
  • People who I don’t recognize will show up.
  • I will get a migraine from all the excitement.
  • I’ll have to take migraine meds and then feel weird and spacey all evening.
  • I will panic from all the excitement.
  • I’ll have to take anxiety meds and then feel distant and forgetful all evening.
  • We will run out of food.
  • We will run out of beverages.
  • I won’t have time to eat my own dinner, my blood sugar will drop, and I’ll feel sick.
  • Our cupcakes will melt.
  • The Dollar Dance will make me dizzy.
  • The old ladies will laugh at me because I can’t polka the “right” way. (I learned from YouTube.)
  • Our guests won’t have fun.
  • Our guests will have too much fun, in the alcoholic sense, and get sick all over the dance floor.
  • Someone will dance too hard and break the dance floor.
  • Someone will dance too hard and break a bone.
  • Something will get physically damaged.
  • Someone will get physically damaged.

My husband-to-be just snuck up behind me, stuck his head over my shoulder, and asked me what I was blogging about.

“About how I’m so nervous for our wedding,” I said, before qualifying my statement further: “It’s not you, of course…”

I paused to gather my thoughts.

“It’s the location. It’s the logistics. It’s those terrible unknowns.”

Truth is, I’m glad he interrupted me. I could have doubled and perhaps tripled each of the above lists had I given myself another ten minutes with this little activity.

Yup. This is classic catastrophization. This is what I do, and this is what I do well.

Stay tuned for the final segment of this series — and my final blog post as a single woman — later this week.

Creative Commons License photo credit: ashley rose,