My best friend saved my wedding from me

It will take quite a few therapy sessions to understand why and at what point in my formative years I became a hyper-independent person. But for now, I just know I used to be. Asking for help or even accepting a sweet gesture from someone else, was never my forte. It wasn’t like I didn’t think I needed help; rather, I believed that getting used to someone being there for me would take away my self-reliance. Until I met people who would just not accept that. They clawed their way in and I am so glad that they did. One of them—my ex-colleague-turned-best-friend, Surbhi*—even saved my wedding, just by refusing to let me soldier through the preparations and the big day alone.

It was a night in May when my partner asked me to marry him, and I said yes. When you fall in love and know you want to spend the rest of your life stealing their hoodies, you want that life to begin as soon as possible. We decided to tie the knot just three months later, in August. We thought we could pull it off, and we did. But I didn’t know then that the preparations would make me feel as though I was trapped in a video game, racing against time.

Honestly, I didn’t even care about a big fat Indian wedding. I just wanted one with our loved ones, great food, and happy moments. Having said that, I still wished for things to feel dreamy, like my lehenga, the phoolon ki chaadar, the first time we looked at each other, the varmala ceremony…. Looking back now, it’s hard to believe I thought I would be able to pull off all of that alone, without asking for help. But naively, I did.

A tale of choices and chaos

When I began the hunt for my red lehenga, I was all alone. Picking one out by myself felt like I was tasked with choosing the president of our country. After trawling through a dozen stores and drinking enough cold coffee to fuel a Starbucks outlet, I found myself overwhelmed with choices. Going by myself felt a little sad too because other brides were with their sisters and friends. And because of it, a couple of store owners even refused to take me seriously—they must have thought I was some crazy girl who was trying out bridal lehengas as a hobby.

Two months before my wedding, my life looked like the insides of a lunch dabba that had spilled in transit—messy and seemingly unsalvageable. Work was hectic, my sisters were abroad, and my parents were too old to handle the chaos that comes with prepping for a wedding. Between coordinating with the caterers, decorators and the photo-video team, shopping like my life depended on it, and managing my work that required me to be constantly on top of things, I was perpetually close to a breakdown. My partner tried his best, but even he couldn’t rescue me from the avalanche of decisions to be made; on my reception outfit. When I asked if I should go with a burgundy or merlot, he said, “What’s the difference?” I felt like my shoulders would drop on the floor, weighed down with responsibility.

I didn’t feel angry about not having people to help me out because I knew if I asked, I would have all the help I needed. But why wasn’t I asking? I tend to have this massive fear of inconveniencing people, even when I know it’s no trouble for them. But the thing I’ve understood is, you can act like you’ve got it all together even when you’re walking on a tightrope on a windy day—but people who care for you can see right through it.

Enter: My self-appointed bridesmaid

When my best friend saw what was going on, she didn’t wait for me to ask. She stepped in and appointed herself as bridesmaid. Surbhi lives her life in Excel sheets. She once made one just to rank horror movies we could watch by their fear factor, streaming platforms, and binge-worthiness. So, naturally, she approached my wedding with the same level of meticulousness.

She noticed how of the two lehengas I’d shortlisted, one made me light up while the other one was just pretty. “You need the one that makes you feel like a bride,” she said firmly. When I still didn’t have a mehendi artist weeks before the wedding, Surbhi researched and shortlisted people and as soon as I picked one, she negotiated payment, finalised the designs and coordinated schedules.

I could make an entire list of things she handled: phoolon ki chaadar, varmala arrangements, the wedding cake delivery, my salon appointments…. But most importantly, she handled me when my brain started to fog as we approached D-day. I was relieved to be able to hand over the micro-decisions to her with all the big items locked. I trust her judgement—I knew she’d know exactly what I’d prefer.

When my sisters finally arrived, I couldn’t help but cry with relief. I was just so grateful to have them by my side and to help me so I could catch my breath. But until then, my self-appointed bridesmaid had held down the fort, and how.

On the day of the wedding, too, she stayed by my side, helping me slip into my lehenga, put on my shoes, and groove to music before the chaos began. My wedding? It was more beautiful than I had expected. I felt happy, relaxed, and loved. And it was in no small part because of the unyielding support Surbhi had shown me without being asked.

Hyperindependent, who?

It’s been five months, and our friendship feels a lot deeper—the wedding seems to have officiated her as my sister. It feels like my safety net now goes beyond just my blood family. After all of this, I have learnt that you can do many things alone but not everything. It’s okay to let people in, ask for help, and allow loved ones to be there for you because it makes them as happy as it makes you. Besides, seeking help when you need it is what gives you a sense of being part of a community. I know if my loved ones or colleagues ask me for help, I’ll be there too.

Am I where I aim to be, in terms of letting go of my hyper-independence? Not even close. But I have made slow progress and I do make myself ask for support when I absolutely need it. In fact, while I have always been someone who has stoutly refused to accept even gifts, I am planning to send my husband a long wishlist this Valentine’s Day. Perhaps I could get used to relying on other people after all.

*Name changed to maintain anonymity