Before we’d even met in person, I informed my now-husband over text that “I’d rather die than have an actual wedding.”
A little over two years later, I’d find myself in a bleak sorority of thwarted brides who had to cancel an actual wedding because of mass death. God’s messed-up sense of humor involves wordplay.
I’m not unique. About 2 million couples were planning on marrying in the U.S. in 2020. In my social circle alone, there were at least three couples in the same boat—Brides of COVID. Some of us have boxes of unsent invitations in the corners of our office that we can’t bring ourselves to throw away. Some of us are out thousands of dollars. At least one of us had her dress specifically tailored to her body and, when the tailor tried to reach her about picking it up, went AWOL. Some of us eloped. One research firm estimates that couples that weren’t even able to have weddings in 2020 still owe $3.7 billion for their very special, very expensive non-events. On behalf of those people, I’d like to offer a very special, fondant-coated ‘Fuck you’ to 2020 as this year slithers off into history.
