Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Rachel Safier is a journalist who has written for magazines, television, and the Web. She broke off her own engagement two weeks before her wedding day and has since become known on the popular wedding Web site theknot.com as the expert on cold feet and broken engagements. She is the founder of the web site theregoesthebride.com.

Wendy Roberts, LCSW, has been counseling adults and adolescents in individual, couple, and family psychotherapy for twenty-five years.

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There Goes the Bride is your personal guide to calling off a wedding― maybe your own! It walks the reader through the reasons, logistics, and emotions associated with breaking an engagement and provides down-to-earth advice, support, and encouragement from women who have been there. Rachel Safier― the widely recognized expert on the topics of cold feet and broken engagements― addresses all your concerns, including figuring out if it's more than just cold feet, dealing with friends and family who don't understand, giving back the ring, and more. Filled with stories from sixty-two 'almost brides' from twenty-five. states and four countries who've been through this difficult process themselves, There Goes the Bride offers comfort, inspiration, practical advice, some tears, and quite a few laughs.

"Tying the knot is great― when it's right. For to-be-weds everywhere who may not be sure their 'one' is 'The One,' or for those on the receiving end of a broken engagement, the personal stories in this book are a balm for understanding how and why these things happen and for coping with the aftermath and moving on."
― Carley Roney, editor-in-chief and cofounder, theknot.com

"Safier's timely and important book shows why it's better to break off an engagement than go through with a marriage that isn't meant to be. The wise words of these 'almost brides' will be helpful to others on the verge of breaking it off or troubled by the aftermath of a broken engagement."
― Pamela Paul, author, The Starter Marriage and the Future of Matrimony

"It's about time someone tackled this often-secret subject. There Goes the Bride is long overdue."
― Lori Leibovich, editor and founder, indiebride.com

Aus dem Klappentext

There Goes the Bride is your personal guide to calling off a wedding— maybe your own! It walks the reader through the reasons, logistics, and emotions associated with breaking an engagement and provides down-to-earth advice, support, and encouragement from women who have been there. Rachel Safier— the widely recognized expert on the topics of cold feet and broken engagements— addresses all your concerns, including figuring out if it's more than just cold feet, dealing with friends and family who don't understand, giving back the ring, and more. Filled with stories from sixty-two 'almost brides' from twenty-five. states and four countries who've been through this difficult process themselves, There Goes the Bride offers comfort, inspiration, practical advice, some tears, and quite a few laughs.

"Tying the knot is great— when it's right. For to-be-weds everywhere who may not be sure their 'one' is 'The One,' or for those on the receiving end of a broken engagement, the personal stories in this book are a balm for understanding how and why these things happen and for coping with the aftermath and moving on."
— Carley Roney, editor-in-chief and cofounder, theknot.com

"Safier's timely and important book shows why it's better to break off an engagement than go through with a marriage that isn't meant to be. The wise words of these 'almost brides' will be helpful to others on the verge of breaking it off or troubled by the aftermath of a broken engagement."
— Pamela Paul, author, The Starter Marriage and the Future of Matrimony

"It's about time someone tackled this often-secret subject. There Goes the Bride is long overdue."
— Lori Leibovich, editor and founder, indiebride.com

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There Goes the Bride

Jossey-Bass

Chapter One

One night, I met my sister in the city, as we were traveling to our parents' house together. We stopped to get some crisps [potato chips], and the shopkeeper said in passing, "Have a great day-life is about having fun," and I said to my sister, "You know what? I'm not having fun." And then I told her everything that I had kept from my family. That night I stayed at my parents'.-SANDY

Before beginning the emotional work of getting over your loss, you're going to need to unravel the complex quilt that was your wedding. If you are early in the planning process, you'll "only" have to deal with telling people. If you are close to the wedding day (say, two weeks out, as I was), you'll have the added joy of contacting vendors.

Lucky for you, the Almost Brides have been there, and we've got some wisdom for you.

TELLING FAMILY

I dreaded telling my family that Mark and I were having serious problems. I had the irrational fear that my parents would somehow blame me for not being good enough for Mark or serious enough about marriage, or think I had somehow "ruined" a perfectly good thing. One afternoon, over the phone, the rabbi walked us through the wedding ceremony. When he got to the part in the Jewish ceremony where the groom pulls the handkerchief out of the rabbi's hand, symbolizing that he is entering into marriage of his own free will and signaling that the ceremony can proceed, the rabbi asked if I wanted to have the same opportunity, as ours was to be an egalitarian ceremony.

"Yes," I told him. Then I thought: I'm not going to be able to pull that handkerchief.

That night, I broke down and told my older brother that it didn't look like we were going to get married. Irrational fears still in place, I suggested that Mark was the only one with the doubts. David promised me that he'd help me break the news to our parents.

Still, I waited. Mark and I were in full calling-it-off talks when we went home to his parents' city for a celebratory dinner with their friends and my parents. We hung out with Mark's family the afternoon of the dinner, and I felt absolutely brakes-slamming-world-ending sick. When they got into town, my parents called from their hotel room and I stretched the phone cord taut into the living room, shut the door, and told them. Again, I neglected to mention my feelings on the issue.

"Oh everyone gets cold feet!" my mother assured me. "Even your dad!" I really don't think that's what it is, I told them. And when they saw my face at dinner that night, they knew. My father told me later that after that dinner, he and my mother were just waiting for the phone to ring with news the wedding was off.

I didn't call. Instead, a few days later, I hopped a plane home.

Weeping, I told my story to my sympathetic seatmate, (she actually said, "I know those tears," before I started in, but I didn't even need the opening). She told me how much better off I was-the first of many times I would hear that.

My parents agreed. Together, we all breathed a sigh of relief while some of us (me) cried like babies. To say my parents came through would be a huge understatement. They stayed up late, telling me just how lucky I was. When women e-mail me and say they are afraid of telling their parents and costing them all that money, I lay it on the line. Our parents only want us to be happy. Yes, Almost Brides have told me of parents being less than sympathetic, but the fact is, if your parents don't get it now, they will get it later. If they can't be happy for you, your own happiness will have to suffice. And any amount of money lost is worth a mistake being averted. Any amount. If you don't believe me, write this in large letters backwards on your forehead and stand in front of the mirror until the message gets through to you:

Any amount.

Do you know how expensive divorces are?

TELLING FRIENDS

Despite our talk of relief, my parents didn't want me to spread the word. They sort of hoped we'd figure it out in the irrational way you think your plane will maybe take off in a blinding snowstorm. I knew it was over, of course. I gave them a day, and then, in decidedly un-Miss Manners fashion, I sent a mass e-mail. I assured everyone I was fine, but I regretted having to tell them that Mark and I weren't getting married. I told them I was home with my family and I'd be in touch soon. My very closest friends called, and everyone else, respecting my privacy, sent e-mails telling me how much they loved me. As far as etiquette goes, you're supposed to send out formal cards that say,

Mr. and Mrs. Greatly Relieved announce that the marriage of their daughter Darling Airhead to Mr. Fortune Hunter will not take place.

And we did that, too; it just took a few days. But I knew my friends cared only that I was okay, and the flood of replies full of love helped me immensely.

TELLING COWORKERS

I called Andrea, my supervisor, from the airport and calmly told her the wedding was off. When she exclaimed, "Oh My God! How are you?" I burst out crying. She, cool woman that she is, told me to take as much time as I needed and to come crash with her and her fianc if I needed to. She even took my picture of Mark out of the frame on my desk and replaced it with a magazine clipping of ex-Washington, D.C., mayor (and convicted drug user) Marion Barry, to give me a laugh upon my return. Can't ask for much more support than that.

What she didn't do was tell the rest of the office. She understandably felt that this was my news to disseminate as I chose. I understandably wanted her to alert everyone and then tell them to leave me alone. (I just forgot to ask her to do so. Be sure to make your needs clear.) I had called one work friend, Mike, near the end of the engagement, so when I didn't show up to work two weeks before my wedding, he knew what was up. But, like my supervisor, he didn't think it was his place to "gossip" about me. This left another friend, Jim, nearly frantic, pressing Mike for details. Was I hurt? Was my family okay? Mike stood mute, a Mona Lisa of loyalty.

All this tact and diplomacy left me in the unenviable position of telling those coworkers I wasn't close to that the wedding was off-over and over. I had many conversations like this:

Reid: So how's the planning going?

Me: Well, actually, we've called it off.

Reid: (Smiling blankly.)

Me: Really.

Reid: (Smiling quizzically.)

Me: Really. It's okay. I'm okay. We just called it off.

Reid: (Smiling uncomfortably.)

Me: I'm fine. I'm cool. Do you have that document for me?

It could have been worse. It certainly was for Elizabeth:

My coworkers were the most difficult, especially with the second breakup. My family started calling me the "runaway bride," which really did hurt, but I just kind of let it roll off my back. My second fianc had proposed on my birthday at my company Christmas party. There were about four hundred people there and all eyes were on me as he got down on one knee and proposed, and then we had a dance. For the next four weeks, people that I had never talked to before came up to me, giving...