Although I've worked at Brides for the last three years, I never really imagined myself in this position: the blank-page end of the wedding planning spectrum, or realised how daunting, exciting and overflowing with possibilities it would feel.
First off there is telling everyone - which as madly, jump-up-and-down happy occasion as it is, is when the relatives' questions begin. 'When are you getting married?', 'Where are you getting married?', 'What are you going to wear?', 'You are inviting your dad's cousin Brian aren't you?'.
Your nearest and dearest are always going to have expectations of what a wedding, your wedding, should be. When my boyfriend proposed to me in a field at Glastonbury Festival at some silly hour of the morning, I knew most of the engagement-stage of expectations had gone out of the window (try explaining to your grandmother that you were on the way back from Shangri-la to your tent when your lovely now husband-to-be popped that question). No he didn't have a ring, no get didn't get down on one knee (I made him do it later, I wanted the one knee!) and no there wasn't some big orchestrated build-up, but he really, really meant it.
Although I was a bit upset for a day or two that I didn't have that flower-filled, champagne-appearing, finding your ring in your desert at a posh dinner moment, I soon realised that wasn't us, and the same should apply to the wedding. For your wedding to feel like your wedding it has to feel like you. So if you love the glamour of a black-tie ball in a swanky hotel, then get dressed up and dance, if you want the Pride and Prejudice-style country house to marry your Mr Darcy then do it even if you are a city girl on weekdays, but to be honest I think I might just end up dancing the night away in a field.
Now I've just got to find somewhere to do it... Let the wedding planning begin!

Mel Yates