For many years (one of) my soapbox issue(s) has been the etiquette surrounding the granting of a plus one for a wedding. When I was in relationships and therefore took the ‘and guest’ for granted as far as it affected me personally, I recall the anxiety and anger of my single friends with regard to whether or not they were permitted to bring a date to a friend or family member’s wedding. And, I vividly recall my reaction to the first wedding invitation I received addressed simply to me, with just my name and no plus one, no guest, no nothing. After going through the five stages of grieving, I came to the firm belief that once you reach a certain age there are simply no circumstances under which it is acceptable to invite someone to a wedding without giving them the option of bringing a date. But, I’ll get back to that conclusion and my support thereof.
With that first solo invite, I immediately assumed it must be a mistake (denial). This belief was fueled by the fact that at the time I’d received the save the date it had been addressed to me and my ex, so I figured it was an oversight. I mean you can’t give a plus one and then take it away, can you? However, once it was confirmed that I indeed had been labeled a single person, a leper, I flipped out. I picked up the phone and called anyone who was willing to listen and expressed my outrage at this situation. How dare she?! (anger). My next thought was if I called my friend and explained my situation, that I didn’t want to travel alone to a wedding where I wouldn’t know many people, she would be reasonable and make an exception to her ‘no one without a significant other gets a date, period’ rule (bargaining). Once my request was officially denied, I cried. I poured a large glass of red wine and got busy feeling sorry for myself. There’s nothing quite like being told you are not worthy of even bringing a date to make you really evaluate your stake in life. It is loneliness scrawled on an envelope in beautiful calligraphy. You start to evaluate why you’re alone. You question whether you’ll always be alone. You curse those happy people walking down the street together, holding hands (you may or may not throw things at them). And naturally you start to dread the wedding, and not just this wedding but all weddings, showers, dinners, social occasions in which people bring a date. You contemplate not going to these things and just staying home with a movie and your trusty bottle of wine where no one will point and stare at the pathetic single girl walking into the room (depression). After waiting until the very last minute to send back your reply card, out of spite, you start making your plans. You figure out who you know that’s going to the wedding that you’d feel comfortable third wheeling it with, you buy a super hot dress and start a diet plan in the off chance that there will be a single man at the wedding who you won’t find repulsive or irritating and you always, always come up with your contingency plan, an escape route if you will, in case the experience is too mortifying and painful to endure until the end. (acceptance).
More later...
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