My daughter is getting married in less than two months, and I’m feeling as mellow as brie cheese. My secret? I chose not to be a motherzilla of the bride.
For those who spent the past decade on Mars, motherzillas are first cousins to a modern species known as bridezillas — unpleasant creatures who think the world revolves around them just because they’re planning a wedding.
Sure, I’m delighted that my daughter is getting married, but that doesn’t mean I have to get involved in the minutiae of her wedding day. Doing so could lead to disaster.
The dynamics of my relationship with my daughter is that she assumes I think everything she does is wrong, but that is only partly true. We do not always share the same opinions or aesthetic sensibilities, but it’s a leap for her to infer I think mine are right and hers, wrong.
Still, the best way for me to keep the peace is to keep my thoughts to myself.
‘Wear beige and keep your mouth shut’
This strategy was affirmed by a blogger for Psychology Today who relayed the advice a neighbor gave to her future mother-in-law: “As mother of the groom, you only need to remember one thing, Sheila, my dear. Just one tiny rule and you will have a very happy weddin’. Ready?…..Wear beige and keep your mouth shut!” For the author, “wearing beige” became a catch phrase for not meddling in one’s children’s affairs.
Though I am not a beige person by nature, I have been richly rewarded for not micromanaging my daughter’s wedding. For one thing, we are still on speaking terms.
For another, she has done a fabulous job planning her wedding with her future husband.
Do I really need to choose my daughter’s wedding deejay?
The wedding will be outdoors in the groom’s father’s backyard, with a local food truck grilling up fresh tacos and DIY decorations on all the tables. I was thrilled my daughter invited me to taste the tacos and thrift shop for colorful vases with her. And I wouldn’t have missed watching her try on wedding dresses; she looked lovely in all of them. So what if her first choice was my second? It was like deciding between prawns and lobster.
On the other hand, I had no vote in her choice of photographer, deejay, officiant, invitations or honeymoon destination. And that’s fine too. Instead of feeling left out, I feel proud that I raised a child confident and capable enough to plan her own wedding without needing her mother’s constant approval.
Of course, raising the grandchildren could be a totally different story.
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