The Professional

Weddings are beautiful and glorious things—the moment of two souls becoming one and vowing to put the other’s needs before his or her own. That particular view on weddings is a hopelessly romantic ideal, but I have always been a bit of a romantic. The grand ending to a movie or book where the two protagonists that you thought could never work out come together in a magical kiss and somehow make everything that was keeping them apart vanish. Those were the kinds of books and movies that I could spend my entire life reading and watching, and don’t skimp on the clichés. Weddings in my mind are the groom and the bride’s grand ending—their magical kiss that shows that they are in this together . . . forever. Having been from a big family, I had my fair share of chances to attend weddings as a child and loved every second of it. The stunning dress, the whimsical flowers, the entrancing music, and the astonishing atmosphere captivated me a child, and I wanted nothing more than to be a part of such an exquisite thing for the rest of my life. Of course, as a child, I did not know all the work that went into planning such an extravagant event, but I knew that I was meant to be one of the people working behind the scenes to create this day for the bride and the groom. Never had I questioned my career choice, and never had I wished more strongly than ever that I hadn’t chosen this profession, not until recently. Not until I felt as if my whole world shattered at my feet, and I was left to pick up the pieces . . . alone.