Dearest bridemaids,

You are here because of all of the laughs that have been shared and all of the tears that have been cried in the past. This lovely woman standing before you in white or ivory or some combination thereof wanted you there to share her wedding day alongside her, to hold her hand and to see her laugh and cry one more time before she becomes a Mrs.  You’ll be there for that first congratulatory hug and high five, maybe even a ‘go team’ style pat on the butt.

Me? I am here to document all of that, and boy do I love me some tears, hugs and laughs. I’ll ask you kindly to get in your bridesmaid dress as you fluff your hair in the mirror for the 40th time. Maybe the second request may not have a ‘please’ at the end because a lot of time has elapsed and you still haven’t moved an inch.  Perhaps round three involves me giving you a death stare from across the room because you are the only thing keeping me from getting this lovely bride into her dress so we can take pictures. The groom is waiting, her family is waiting. All of the other bridesmaids are waiting. Your hair looks great, you’re not wearing too much makeup, I swear, I swear.

I promise I’m not the photo nazi  and that my intentions are o-so-good. I know the big watch I wear on my wrist is only there to let ME know how many minutes I am away from the church coordinator telling me that I have to stop taking pictures or how much glorious sunlight I have until it looks like everyone is standing against the equivalent of a black hole. I spend the whole day lying to everyone about the time, especially the bride.

I whisper sweet promises of perfectly tucked arms and no back fat only in exchange for giving me 10 short minutes of your time. Maybe, maybe, you could even not roll your eyes when I ask you nicely to spit out your bright blue gum? I’ll openly admit that I can’t edit that out; the photoshop gurus have not invented a ‘remove bright blue gum’ action and my magic gum-removing wand is broken.

After the ceremony, I’m the only thing keeping you from imbibing massive amounts of alcoholic beverages and dancing your tushie off. I’m also the only thing keeping you from the food and I bet you are starving since you have eaten ALL DAY. Don’t worry, I can hear you when I have the camera pressed up to my eyeball. I also heard you call me the photo nazi again and it doesn’t hurt my feelings. Maybe that is exactly who I am.

If being a photo nazi means that every tear, hug, and kiss is documented and that you look freaking fantastic in every photo then I will continue to tell you to raise your chin, stick out your boobs and smile. Smile until it hurts, dearest bridesmaid, because I am the only thing standing between YOU and not having to spend any more time with ME.

My jokes are silly and my monkey noises are loud. And yet, I will keep you there until the church lady starts to pummel me with left over programs and the florist forcibly removes the arrangements from my cold, angry hands.

At the end of the night when you are completely intoxicated and telling me how even though I’ve been a complete b!tch to you to all day, that you really, really love me – I promise I will still hug you and go back to the studio and edit your arms and your back fat. I love you, dearest bridesmaid, even though you don’t yet love me.

Pink puffy hearts,

LM