I Built a Wedding Planning Brand. I Still Didn’t Expect This

As the founder of Do Tell The Bride - and a bride-to-be very soon - I’m lying awake at 5am with an early shift ahead of me. I know I need to sleep, but my brain simply won’t switch off.

They say wedding planning is stressful. Or overwhelming. Or one of the many other words people use when they’re trying to summarise something much bigger than that. What I didn’t quite understand was the sheer exhaustion of it all. Not the busy kind - the quiet kind. The way it takes up space in your head even when you’re not actively doing anything. The way it hums in the background while you’re brushing your teeth, replying to emails, trying to fall asleep.

Let’s rewind.

August 2023. My partner proposed to me in a hot tub overlooking the Welsh Black Mountains. Our dog brought the ring to me on his collar. It was very us. Quietly romantic. Thoughtful. Perfect.

The ring went on. The news spread. We celebrated with a few close people.

What I didn’t quite realise at the time was that getting engaged meant you actually had to start thinking about getting married. Properly. Not just in a vague, future-us way - but in a logistical, decision-heavy, timeline-based way. And what I already knew about myself - but hadn’t yet connected to wedding planning - was that I’m not brilliant at making decisions.

What I didn’t know was that wedding planning is essentially one hundred thousand decisions, stacked on top of each other, all asking to be made while everyone around you has an opinion.

When “bride” becomes an identity you didn’t ask for

Truthfully, I’ve never been someone who dreamed of being a bride. For years, I told people I wouldn’t get married. I couldn’t tell you exactly what changed. Maybe it was the man. Maybe it was my ever-increasing age. Maybe I just wanted the pretty dress. Probably a mix of all three.

Something shifts when you get engaged. Not all at once - just enough to notice.

Suddenly, people talk to you differently. Ask different questions. Have expectations about how invested you should be in things you’ve never really thought about before. You’re no longer just yourself; you’re a bride. A role with assumptions attached to it.

Even for someone who literally built a wedding planning brand, that identity shift is strange. I can talk calmly and clearly about weddings all day - but living inside one is different. Decisions feel more symbolic. Opinions feel heavier. Even small choices start to feel like they say something about you.

And it’s disorienting. You’re still the same person, but you’re also carrying a version of yourself that other people seem to have already decided things about.

Expectations vs reality

When people talk about wedding planning, there’s a lot of reassurance thrown around.

“It’s your day.” “You’ll look back and laugh.” “Once you’ve booked the big things, it’ll feel easier.”

Some of that is well-meaning. Some of it is just unhelpful.

Because the reality is that excitement doesn’t cancel out pressure. Gratitude doesn’t erase decision fatigue. And being organised doesn’t stop the mental load of holding everyone else’s expectations alongside your own.

You’re not just planning a day. You’re navigating family dynamics you didn’t create. Translating vague opinions into actual decisions. Trying to keep the peace without losing yourself in the process. Making choices that feel emotional, even when they shouldn’t be.

And you’re expected to do all of this while staying upbeat, grateful, and calm.

The thing nobody warned me about

When I look back now, one of the biggest decisions wasn’t the venue or the dress or the guest list.

It was the date.

People will tell you - and I let myself be convinced - that having your wedding further in the future is the sensible choice. You can save more money. You’ll have more time to plan. And yes, the money part makes sense. We’ve managed to put some aside.

But here’s what I wasn’t expecting.

What surprised me most was that having time didn’t reduce the stress - it stretched it.

With more time came more opinions. More hypothetical conversations. More “you could always…” thoughts that lived in my head long after they were said. The pressure didn’t arrive in one dramatic moment - it seeped in slowly, until wedding planning became something I was always slightly carrying, even when nothing was actively happening.

I used to think stress came from being behind. From not knowing what to do next. From being disorganised.

Now I know it can also come from having too much space to think.

Why I’m writing this

This blog isn’t here to tell you how to plan a wedding “properly.” I already know that checklists and timelines aren’t the full answer. This is me being honest - as someone who built a wedding planning brand to make things feel calmer, and still finds herself lying awake at 5am with a head full of half-formed decisions.

Some days, I feel capable and grounded. Other days, I feel completely drained by decisions I haven’t even made yet.

If you’re feeling like this too, you’re not behind. You’re not ungrateful. And you’re definitely not doing it wrong.

You’re just in it.

In the posts that follow, I want to talk about the parts of wedding planning that don’t make it onto Pinterest boards - the mental load, the noise, the guilt, the constant decision-making - and what it actually takes to move through it with a bit more clarity and a lot less pressure.

This is not a guide. It’s a conversation.

And if you’re here reading this at an unreasonable hour with your brain refusing to switch off - you’re not alone.