I Was Fat On My Wedding Day

I was fat on my wedding day.


Maybe it’s because I graduated college and received my job offer within the same weekend he proposed, but my life was pretty intense once I was engaged. With a new city, new job, and planning my entire wedding states away from where it was happening, losing weight continued to be pushed lower on the list of things to do. Sure, I got a “Sweating for the Wedding” tank top like everyone else and I may have went to the gym a little more, but when I was stressed over seating arrangements and family drama, nothing stopped me from grabbing the Ben & Jerry’s out of the freezer. I ordered my wedding dress for the size I was and I even swapped the zipper for a corset just incase I lost, or heaven forbid, gained weight. The goal went from 100 pounds to 50, 50 pounds to 20, to a simple, “No taco bell until wedding weekend.”


I knew my confidence and body issues were going to be a problem leading up to the wedding. I’ve screamed in dressing rooms, deleted tags on Facebook pictures, and even avoided the doctor’s office for much too long because I didn’t I want to step on a scale.  Months before, I even found myself on the floor of a David’s Bridal breaking down in a Canary Yellow bridesmaid dress chosen for my sister’s wedding. I was consumed in fear knowing I would have to wear that exact dress in front of family members and be captured in photos that would hang on many walls.


I Facebook-stalked other girls who I knew were married just months before me in their tight white dresses, and feared that I would look like a lumpy snowman covered in snow globe glitter. I was fully aware that at the time I was bigger than all of my bridesmaids, even my groom, and I continued to have nightmares in which I was too self conscious to walk down the aisle. My wedding dress was the first white piece of clothing that I ever owned, and as the wedding countdown dropped day after day, the scale was as stubborn as could be.


But when it came to the big day, I was too overcome with emotions to even care about what I looked like.


Fighting a sinus infection, I spent most of the morning in the random clothes I pulled on the night before. I was forced to not talk while getting ready out of fear that I wouldn’t have a voice to say “I do,” which left me sipping coffee in the corner watching my beautiful bridesmaids finalize their up-dos and zip each others’ dresses. While worrying about the rain, the decor, and where I was going to stash my cough drops during the ceremony, it was finally time to stop thinking about anything else but myself.  If it wasn’t for my bridesmaids, I may not have remembered deodorant or to brush my teeth so that my pictures didn’t show how red my mouth was from the medicine.


When my hair was done and I put on my dress all the girls forced me to take a few moments to look in the mirror. I thought I would see flaws, just as I do every other moment I look in a mirror…but this moment was different. I saw the dress that I had drooled over since the day I picked it off the rack. Instead of a double chin, I saw curl after curl perfectly placed on my head and cascading across my shoulders. Instead of a gut, I saw glitter-touched tulle running down the skirt into the most amazing train.  Luckily, my photographer captured the moment because that was the only time I looked in the mirror the entire day.


I have an amazing, passionate, and driven man who wants to spend the rest of his life with me. Our wedding was a celebration of our relationship, and a jumping point into an unwritten future. Sure, I kept up with my blonde highlights and spent money for people to do my hair and makeup, but the purpose of the day had nothing to do with how “perfect” I looked. If I walked down that aisle in basketball shorts and a cut off T-shirt my husband would have cried just as much. Our friends and family were touched by the love and words we shared, not how we decided to present ourselves (though the fact that my Husband had ‘groom’ stitched into his converse shoes was pretty cool). I look back on the hundreds of photos that were taken and I see how happy I was, not the size of my arms or every insecurity that I tried to fit into the dress.


That day wasn’t about me, it was about US; It was another day with my best friend, a man who would love me the same if I gained 100 pounds or lost 20 pounds. No matter how big my waist was, he grabbed it tight as we had our first dance. He slid a beautiful shiny ring on my fat finger, and I know he meant every word he said that day. I had the day of my dreams, even in a body that I continue to despise every day of my married life, because I have the man of my dreams… now and everyday.


I was fat on my wedding day, and I’m totally okay with that.


Kasey is a small town Michigan girl who chased her dreams all the way to NYC. Currently an Accountant, Kasey resides in Brooklyn with her loving husband John.  She is an avid glitter enthusiast who enjoys dancing, theatre, color-guard, and obnoxiously large hair-bows. She talks about it all on her website


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10 Responses

  1. Awww Kasey, this was great to read! I have been feeling this way a lot lately. the wedding day is getting closer and closer and I’m definitely no where near my goal of 50 pounds lost. Thank you!

  2. Absolutely love this. I was (AM) a fat girl, and I had major dress drama. Every time I saw myself in my “dream” dress, I felt terrible. I cried in the alterations room at David’s Bridal while standing in a $1000+ dress that my mom had bought. I felt like such a spoiled, fat brat. On my wedding day, I had to keep telling myself to enjoy the moment, stop thinking about your damn arms. And eventually it worked. I had a beautiful day with my new husband.

    Skinny or fat, it doesn’t matter. What does matter is the humidity level (trust).

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