When you know, you know, right?

The minute I set foot in the bridal store my anxiety rose to a level 100. It was a zoo. Brides were running around. Babies were screaming. Stage moms were critiquing the fit of their daughters' future prom dresses. I soon found out there was a $99 special going on. I chose the wrong day to play dress up. I was shoved in a corner that happened to be directly next to a woman and her 8 relatives who all had very strong opinions about my dresses and hers. I immediately decided I would throw a few dresses on and then I was out of here.

My salesperson was a breath of fresh air. She managed to compose herself in the midst of 60 emotional women. She was calm, collected and nurturing. I put the first dress over my head, zipped it up myself and walked out of my small corner dressing room. Everyone in the heavily mirrored room seemed to stop what they were doing and stare at me. I couldn't tell if this was a good reaction or a bad one.

I mazed through the 8 relatives and stood in front of my mom. She looked at me and immediately started crying. "Oh, Erin," she said in her sweetest librarian voice. "You're beautiful." I caught a glimpse of my reflection and loved what I saw. This dress was an amazing designer gown with a hint of vintage flair. It was classic. Elegant. Me. But too big. I couldn't get past the fact I was about to flash the bride next to me and her 8 relatives who chimed in that it was a "WOW" dress. It was perfect, but it couldn't be this easy. I had to try on a few more before I realized nothing could compare to my very first dress.

Luckily they had a smaller version of "the dress". I put it on and it fit perfectly. I felt like a million dollars. I left the boutique, ran to another store, tried on a few more gowns before confirming my decision. This was the dress. This was the dress.