It was love at first sight. Not my love for my husband. That developed slowly over four years. I am talking about my wedding venue. The sea-facing lawn was unlike any location I had seen in Mumbai. The afternoon I visited for a recce, the sun dusted the Arabian Sea with gold and the grass shone an emerald green. “We need to start the ceremony early. It will photograph beautifully before the sun sets,” I gushed.
On the day, my husband walked into the mandap over an hour late. His kind (read: inconsiderate) groomsmen had stolen the keys to the buggy he was meant to arrive in. When our pheras finally began, an inky sky had wiped out my dream of an Instagram-perfect wedding. This could have been the beginning of our post-wedding we-never-got-good-photos quarrel, but deep inner work saved me from falling into that dark vortex of external validation fuelled by social media.
I am not an influencer, and I didn’t expect the day to become my claim to fame. I also hadn’t grown up with a starry-eyed picture of a big wedding. The day was always meant to be an emotional and intimate rite of passage shared with close family and friends. Yet, social media had warped the meaning of marriage for me in many ways.
At every stage of the planning process, Instagram’s algorithm clung to me like a leech I couldn’t shake off. While picking a photographer, my feed led me to thousands of options that muddled my mind. When I was zeroing in on my outfit, other brides’ photos would remind me there was a better lehenga out there. When I picked my jewelry, my explore page made me believe that anything less than a three-layered necklace would relegate me to bridesmaid status.
Brides, including me, often forget that social media influencers sell us a product, not reality. On a reality show, Alanna Panday unabashedly shared how her wedding was meant to earn her big bucks. “It’s a huge opportunity for us to not only grow on social media but also to make money. Besides, obviously, it’s also a very big day for us personally. But I think in terms of brand deals, it’s the biggest time in a creator’s life. That’s at least how I view it, anyway.”
I’ve attended weddings where I could have sworn the bride stared deeper into the camera lens than the groom’s eyes. Photographers agree that among the requests that they routinely receive, a recurring one is “make our wedding go viral”. “But recently, we’ve also been asked to turn in the photographs within 24-48 hours. Some couples want their photographs to be shot in an editorial style so that magazines pick them up. We have to remind them that we are there to photograph the wedding, not to make them an internet sensation,” says Shrey Bhagat, founder and creative director of Raabta.
In the six months leading up to the day, I was so anxious that it could have been my second name. Wedding planning is stressful. There are multiple stakeholders and cultural nuances involved. There’s insurmountable pressure to look and dress a certain way. Let’s not forget that it’s an emotional moment because women often leave their parents’ home. Then, there’s a layer of a thousand uninvited strangers viewing your big day on social media.
I was worried about everything, everywhere, all at once. I worried that I’d get an anxiety attack or trip over my own lehenga while walking down the aisle. I worried I’d forget my steps while dancing and the moment would be caught on camera. At some point, the purpose of this wedding had slipped. I had forgotten that this was the beginning of something special with my partner. “Marriage is beautiful, but it’s also something that’s a huge life change, and a part of the celebration is to help someone with that transition,” Vasunia reminds us.
Looking for help in coping with my emotions, I sought therapy. I began to learn to shut out the social media noise, and in the days leading up to the main event, I focused on getting in a workout, meeting my friends, and sharing a laugh with my partner. Vasunia advocates for giving yourself some space “because what comes to you in a vacuum is far more authentic than what comes to you in a crowd”. Since the run-up to a wedding can introduce clashes in a relationship, she tells couples to find ways to introduce fun and create lighter moments while they’re planning. “It’ll help you remember why you’re doing this in the first place,” Vasunia says.
There’s a lot of pressure on how your wedding is meant to be the best day of your life. Looking back, mine did turn out that way. Not because it was meant to. Not because I wore a designer lehenga or a heavy necklace. And not because the sunlight was perfect in my photos. It was because I married the love of my life. I had done the inner work to realize that—and forgive him for turning up late.
