Our wedding was really coming together.
My fiancé and I were aligned on what we wanted: a brunch wedding, a small guest list, good food and drinks, and a reception that favored mingling over partying.
Honestly, the whole planning process had been going surprisingly well … until it came time for my bachelorette party.
Planning became difficult, and I almost decided to cancel my bachelorette trip
I had six friends I wanted to invite — a respectable number for an introvert in her 30s — PTO saved, and money set aside. However, the logistics became complicated.
Among my six friends were four states of residence, two new babies, one pregnancy, one long-standing feud, one fear of flying, and wildly different work schedules. Even I could admit it wasn’t the ideal group for bachelorette shenanigans.
Despite trying my hardest to make it work — I even thought about traveling to each of them for one-on-one mini bachelorettes or throwing a virtual event — I decided to throw in the towel.
At one point, I wondered if it was for the best. From the number of bachelorettes I’ve attended, I know how often they become a hotbed of personality clashes, hurt feelings, awkward bonding activities, last-minute cancellations, and miscommunications about money.
I’d need two hands to count the friendships I’d known that had ended over bachelorette party behavior.
For a while, I considered not having a bachelorette at all or going on a trip alone, but that didn’t feel like much of a party and I did want to celebrate my upcoming nuptials.
So, I decided to invite the one person I knew would always be down for anything, happy to celebrate with me, and be my general ride-or-die: my mom.
When I asked her to join me on a weeklong trip to Tulum a few months before my wedding, she was thrilled (and surprised).
And, ultimately, I got to avoid so many stressors.
The experience was great, and I didn’t have to damage any friendships along the way
Christine Sarikas
With just the two of us going, planning was a breeze. We only had to keep two people’s preferences and budgets in mind, and the math was easy because we split the costs right down the middle.
Basically, we did everything I would’ve wanted to do if I’d gone on a traditional bachelorette with friends. However, because it was just my mom and me, we knew exactly what the other liked, disliked, and claimed to dislike but actually loved (karaoke, for example).
We spent many days lounging on the beach, but made sure our itinerary was filled with adventure. We signed up for cooking classes where we made (and ate) the best guacamole of our lives and chased tequila shots with fried crickets.
We rented bicycles and explored cenotes, where we floated in the blue water and counted the turtles that paddled past us. We even ate our way through the list of must-visit restaurants we’d compiled and ordered plenty of over-the-top fruity cocktails (our favorite) along the way.
The trip was low on raunchy games and phallic-shaped objects, but that would have been my preference no matter the guest list.
Above all, I had a wonderful, stress-free time and made great memories with my mom, who I hadn’t gotten to spend extended one-on-one time with like this in years.
And, by the time my wedding rolled around, I was able to spend it with friends — all our relationships perfectly intact. I’ll toast to that.
