When my fiancé, Daniel, and I got engaged, I immediately asked my best friend, Emily, to be my maid of honor. We’d been inseparable since college, and I couldn’t imagine planning my wedding without her by my side. She said “yes” with tears in her eyes, promising she’d help with every little detail. At first, it seemed like a dream. But as the months went on, I began to notice that the wedding we were planning didn’t feel like my wedding anymore. It felt like Emily was planning something entirely different—and in a way, she was.
The Early Excitement
In the beginning, Emily was amazing. She came to every dress fitting, emailed me venue options, and even stayed up late helping me choose flowers. When I told her my vision—simple, romantic, with blush and gold accents—she seemed on board. But slowly, her suggestions started straying from what I’d described. “What about a grand ballroom instead of a garden?” she’d say. Or, “Have you considered a winter theme? You could wear a cape!” At first, I chalked it up to her enthusiasm. But it didn’t stop there.
The Shift
One afternoon, we met at a bridal boutique to look at bridesmaid dresses. I wanted something light and airy in pastel tones, but Emily pulled a deep red satin gown from the rack. “This would be stunning,” she insisted. “It’s gorgeous,” I said, “but it doesn’t match the rest of the theme.” She smiled, almost dismissively. “Themes can change.” It was such a strange thing to say—after all, this was my wedding, not hers.
The Strange Vendor Meetings
A few weeks later, Emily offered to meet with a photographer on my behalf because I couldn’t get off work. She texted afterward, saying the meeting went great and she’d booked them. When I looked at their portfolio later, I noticed every example she’d saved featured dramatic, editorial-style shots—nothing like the soft, candid images I’d told her I wanted. Then I saw something even stranger: one of the sample albums had Emily in it. She’d apparently modeled for them at a styled wedding shoot… and the “bride” in those photos looked eerily similar to the vision she’d been pushing for me.
The Bombshell
The real shock came when I accidentally overheard her talking on the phone during a lunch break. She was sitting in the café, scrolling through her phone and laughing. “Yeah, I think I’ll go with that venue. It’s perfect for a summer wedding,” she said. My heart stopped. Summer? My wedding was in summer. When she hung up, I asked casually, “Who were you talking to?” She froze for just a second before saying, “Oh, just a friend. I might be… you know, making some plans.” It all clicked. The venues, the dress styles, the flowers—she wasn’t just “helping” me. She was researching for her own wedding.
The Confrontation
That night, I called her. “Emily, I need to ask—have you been planning your wedding this whole time while pretending to plan mine?” There was a long silence before she said, “I didn’t mean for it to seem that way. I just… got excited. And yes, Matt proposed last month. We haven’t told many people yet.” I was stunned. Not because she was engaged—Matt was great, and I was happy for her—but because she’d never mentioned it, even as we were knee-deep in my wedding planning. And worse, it felt like she’d hijacked my process to plan her own day.
Pulling Back
After that, I started taking more control of my own planning. I stopped letting her handle vendor meetings and made final decisions myself. She was still in the wedding, but I kept her role limited to things that didn’t involve major creative input. It hurt, because I had imagined sharing this once-in-a-lifetime experience with her. Instead, I felt like I’d been an unwitting participant in someone else’s dream board.
The Weddings
When my wedding day came, it was exactly how I had envisioned—soft blush tones, a romantic garden ceremony, and candid photos I’ll treasure forever. Emily stood by my side, smiling, but there was a distance between us that hadn’t been there before. A few months later, she sent me an invitation to her own wedding. The venue? The grand ballroom she’d suggested for mine. The color scheme? Deep red satin. It was beautiful—but it was clear she’d been planning it long before she ever told me.
Final Thought
Friendships can survive a lot, but when trust is broken—especially during a milestone as personal as a wedding—it’s hard to get back to where you were. Emily and I still talk, but our friendship is different now. My wedding taught me that sometimes, even the people closest to you can have their own agenda. If I could go back, I’d still be happy for her engagement—but I’d make sure my wedding was planned for me, by me, from the start.
