Melissa Petro

Engagements being the universally stressful occasions that they are, what this has meant is that I’m constantly pushing my fiancé to make wedding-related decisions, and he is constantly having to ask me (nicely and less-nicely) to give it a rest. It all came to a head this past weekend.

The other day on Facebook, one of my friends remarked that I was a “later-in-life” bride.

We’ve all been in a situation where we've thought NO ONE CAN EVER KNOW THAT THIS HAPPENED TO ME.

No exaggeration, when I close my eyes— even for a second— I see white dresses.

A week or so ago I started shopping for a wedding dress, and guess what? Shopping for a wedding dress sucks!

Arran and I joke that no one wants to go to a wedding, not really— and maybe that’s true, but (perhaps naively) we had thought of the day as a gift to everyone involved, including ourselves.

"Certainly, my life as an alcoholic was not what most would imagine. I was a writer, living in the West Village of New York City, enrolled in a prestigious graduate program and working on a book. At least, this was my cover story."

For someone like me — someone with difficulty forming and maintaining relationships, who has struggled with commitment, and who’s got intimacy issues galore — surely, you can see the appeal. You don’t need to be Freud to figure out why, at a disturbingly young age, I looked forward to the day a man would commit.

The biggest fashion mistake of my lifetime may not be what I wore, but what I didn’t.

You may have heard the old joke that 98% of people masturbate, and the other two percent are lying.