Courtesy of Riany Haffey
From the toasts and the tossing of the bouquet to the white dress and the veil, weddings are loaded with traditions — many of which have wildly problematic origins. My childhood and family have been anything but traditional, so from the moment I began planning my wedding, I knew my wedding probably wouldn't be either. While I did cut the cake and enjoy a first dance with my husband, I ultimately decided not to have my father — or anyone, for that matter — walk me down the aisle.
Truth be told, walking down the aisle solo is the best decision I made throughout all 12 months of planning.
I first faced this decision about six months into the planning process, when my then-fiance Bryan and I began discussing the logistics of the ceremony. On a long, late-night drive from Connecticut back home to Boston, Bryan nonchalantly asked me who would be walking down the aisle. I instantly spiraled into an anxiety tailspin.
"I have no idea!" I told him, my breath shallow and my heart rate quickening. "I hadn't even thought about it until now."
The dilemma stemmed from my complicated upbringing. Rather than being raised solely by a mom and dad, I lived with an assortment of aunts, uncles, and grandparents who all stepped in at various points when my parents were unable to care for me due to their mental health struggles. My father's presence was wildly inconsistent during my childhood — his alcohol addiction always took priority, so he wandered in and out of my life depending on his drinking habits at any given time. Needless to say, it didn't feel right to have him by my side as I entered this new chapter in my life when he'd been so absent in the previous chapters.
My mother might have been an obvious next choice, but she and I had a strained and tumultuous relationship for much of my adulthood as she struggled to accept and encourage my autonomy. I spent years in therapy trying to break free from our enmeshed dynamic while learning to set boundaries with her to protect my emotional well-being.
While contemplating my options, it dawned on me that if I allowed either my father or my mother to walk me down the aisle, I wouldn't be doing it for me. I'd be doing it to avoid potential conflict and make them feel special and included. Those weren't good enough reasons. I'd spent so much of my life trying to please others while neglecting my own needs and wishes, and I didn't want to continue the trend on my wedding day.
After my fiance asked me this seemingly innocuous question, I sat in the passenger seat in silence, nearly paralyzed at the thought of choosing between disappointing my dad or doing something entirely disingenuous.
Sensing my panic, Bryan guided me through a visualization exercise.
"Close your eyes, and try to imagine the ceremony," he said. "The guests stand up, you enter the room, and you see me at the end of the aisle waiting. Who are you walking with?"
I pictured the scene in great detail — including how Bryan's face might look, what the balmy June air might feel like against my skin, and how my bouquet would feel in my hands. That's when it hit me: I didn't imagine anyone by my side. I was walking alone.
"So, there it is," Bryan said. "That's your answer."
Making the decision felt easy. The prospect of communicating that decision to my parents, however, filled me with dread and anxiety.
I agonized over how to tell my dad about my decision for weeks. I worried that he'd feel hurt, rejected, or insulted. Worse, I wondered if he would never understand why I made the choice. Then one day, I was unexpectedly forced to confront the topic head-on during a phone conversation.
"I've been working on building up my strength," said my dad. He's physically disabled and has relied on a walker for years. "If I keep this up, I'll definitely be able to walk you down the aisle."
His assumption left me speechless. We'd never discussed him accompanying me, so how could he be so sure that's what I wanted? Why wouldn't he think to ask? His presumptuousness triggered sudden outrage — which gave me the courage to blurt out: "Actually, Dad, I decided to walk by myself." Without overexplaining, which I feared would make me sound defensive or guilty, I simply told him: "This is what feels right for me," and added that I still looked forward to celebrating with him and enjoying a dance together.
Even if my father and I did have a stronger and more stable relationship growing up, I'm not sure I would've wanted him to "give me away." After all, the tradition has dark patriarchal roots: When it became customary around 1549, it symbolized a father transferring his daughter — then considered his property — to another man. The tradition has certainly evolved since then, and many brides today — some of my friends included — seem to follow it more for the mere comfort and reassurance of a parent by their side during an undoubtedly nerve-wracking experience. For me personally, knowing the origins of the tradition and what it signified gave me the ick.
A 2023 YouGov survey found that about 17% of people believe the tradition of the father "giving away" the bride should be dropped altogether. Ultimately, I don't think there's a "right" or "wrong" approach. But I am glad to see more and more brides are doing things their own way. In a recent Easy Weddings survey, 57% of brides reported that they plan to have their fathers walk them down the aisle, whereas 13% walk with a friend or other family member like a sibling or grandparent, 11% walk with both parents and 7% walk with their mom instead. When Megan Markle married Prince Harry in 2018, she made a lot of headlines for walking down the aisle by herself, before her father-in-law-to-be Prince Charles joined her part of the way down and escorted her the rest of the way. Clearly, there are no hard and fast rules anymore. In an evocative display of unity and compromise, some brides even meet their soon-to-be spouses halfway down the aisle and walk with them arm in arm.
Most of my significant milestones — like graduating from college, finishing a master's program, getting my first apartment, or buying a house — I accomplished all on my own, with little to no help from my parents. During some of the most challenging times in my life, I couldn't always depend on them for financial or emotional support. I'm not sure I can even thank them for providing an example of what healthy relationships look like.
So, when my wedding day finally arrived, walking down the aisle solo felt like a powerful declaration of my independence and self-reliance. When I got the photos back from our big day, and I found the shots of myself walking alone down the aisle, I saw a woman who never needed to be "given away" — because she never did, and never will, belong to anyone.