Now that you’re engaged, prepare to be interrogated and cross-examined as though you’re some bad maverick on the wrong side of the law. People will want to know all the deets. But before you get busy with homemade prison tattoos, let’s go over some common questions that you’ll encounter during your engagement:

“How did he propose?”

“Have you picked a date?”

“Were you surprised?”

“Did he pick the ring?”

These queries will become repetitive, but remember, engagement is awfully fleeting and I encourage you to embrace each and every excited person who grills you. That said, there is one kicker question that may cause your delicate little fist to connect with something smashable:

“Where are you getting married?”

Poised as ever, you answer with a smile and a shrug as the internal panic rolls in like a blanket of fog. You’ve been on the Google machine, and you know there is a wealth of venue and location options. Information overload. Analysis paralysis.

My husband and I knew we wanted a smallish wedding in a naturey location, but we were torn between destination and local. Hampered with indecision, we wavered daily, conjuring up images of us prancing down the beach as newlyweds, but also tying the knot at home, on the prairies. After hours of research and deliberation, cost-comparing and budget building, we decided to go local.

But we hadn’t even scratched the surface of selecting a venue. Not to mention this fresh bouquet of questions: How much should I spend on food? Can we get married on a golf course if we hate golf? Do I need a photobooth? How do I decide on colours? What are chair covers? Can I rent a circus tent? Should we get married in a church? Do people really need functioning washrooms?

Suddenly, I didn’t feel so swaggy. My list of questions piled high.

I knew I was losing him – my fiancé was growing more distant from the “wedding vision” as the days went on, hiding in dark spaces and darting behind blunt objects to avoid any nuptial-related dialogue. His attitude became that of a Paleolithic man, answering only in aggravated grunts and snorts. It wasn’t until I found my comprehensive pro-con list buried in the backyard that I realized I had to take matters into my own hands.

It wasn’t all roses, but eventually, we got there. I chose a venue that suited us, made calls on flowers, photography and food, my fiancée evolved back into a human man, and our wedding was wonderful. It just came with a steep emotional price tag.

“Where are you getting married?”

Now when I hear this question, I smile. Planning is a long, peculiar road, new bride. Don’t suffer over indecision like I did – it will consume your precious and short-lived engagement. Fashion yourself a cocktail, hold hands with your husband, and leave the details to a professional.