By: Jamie Thompson
Updated: December 18, 2015
Originally Published: July 25, 2015
My longtime friend, Lisa, was undoubtedly the calmest bride I’ve ever encountered. I’ve seen my share of brides, but none could compare to her serenity. The pre-wedding chaos seemed to swirl around me instead.
You might wonder—what could possibly cause distress in supporting one of my closest friends on her special day? Beyond the emotions of nearing 40, losing a single friend, and the whirlwind of parties where I’d mingle with unfamiliar faces, there was one significant source of anxiety: the dress.
You might recognize her in wedding photos—the bridesmaid who is strategically placed behind the others or at the end of the line, the one draped in a shawl to cover her upper arms while awkwardly holding her bouquet in an attempt to hide her insecurities. That was me.
Fortunately, Lisa graciously permitted us to choose our own dresses, allowing us only to adhere to the color and fabric. This wasn’t surprising, as Lisa is an incredible friend who has a knack for making everyone feel like a supermodel, regardless of their insecurities. She radiates positivity and self-acceptance, and just being around her infused me with a sense of confidence, making me believe that I could look like the stunning women in bridal magazines. Perhaps.
This wasn’t my first struggle with self-image tied to formal attire. When my sister wed in 1987, she selected six bridesmaids who were all petite, weighing no more than 110 pounds. The dress she chose was nothing short of a fashion disaster, reminiscent of an over-the-top 1980s soap opera. At 17, standing at 5’10” and weighing more than the dress size allowed, I felt like an outlier. The dress was only available up to a size 12, leaving me to resort to extreme measures to fit into something I was never meant to wear.
Despite my efforts to conform to the bridal mold, I ended up wearing a dress that suited my figure and height better, but I was still met with accusations of sabotaging my sister’s wedding. While the marriage didn’t last, the emotional impact lingered.
Fast forward 22 years, and as I unwrapped my bridesmaid dress for Lisa’s wedding, I felt a mixture of hope and apprehension. This time, I was determined to avoid the pitfalls of the past. I ordered the dress three sizes larger, confident in the knowledge that I had lost 46 pounds since she had invited me to stand with her.
At my mother’s house, I slipped into the gown, which was indeed too big in some areas. When I asked my mom to zip it, her efforts revealed a harsh reality: no matter the size, the dress wouldn’t close over my chest. She stepped back and remarked, “This dress really does nothing for you.”
After years of feeling uncomfortable in my own skin, I stood before the mirror, feeling as if I had regressed to a time when I didn’t fit in. The bright hue of the dress, which I dubbed “Electric Hemorrhoid,” did little to help my self-esteem. Instead of recognizing my progress, I fixated on my insecurities—the fabric that emphasized my waist and the stubborn zipper.
In search of a solution, I took to social media and reached out for recommendations. A local seamstress was suggested, and soon I found myself nervously heading to her studio with my unfortunate dress. After being measured and pinned, I transitioned from feeling like a bridesmaid to a martyr—a far cry from the confidence I hoped to embody.
Ultimately, the seamstress worked her magic, and I returned to pick up the dress that I had once believed would transform me. While it didn’t create a new me, it did fit.
A week later, I stood beside my dear friend as she exchanged vows. Just before walking down the aisle, Lisa’s smile illuminated the room, reflecting the years of friendship we shared. In that moment, I realized she didn’t see the “old, fat bridesmaid.” She only saw her friend. I wished I could believe in myself as much as she believed in me.
As I reflected on the experience, I recognized that the journey of self-acceptance was ongoing. It was a reminder that being present for a friend could help me learn to love myself, too. To delve deeper into topics of self-acceptance and the journey of home insemination, check out this post on intracervicalinsemination.com. For more insights on fertility, Medical News Today is an excellent resource. If you’re considering self insemination, visit Make a Mom for their authoritative products.
Summary
This article reflects on a personal journey of self-acceptance through the lens of being a bridesmaid. It recounts the anxieties associated with body image and societal expectations, ultimately leading to a realization of the importance of friendship and self-love.