One hundred fifty bottles of champagne. Two hundred sixty people. Thousands of flowers. About $110,000.That was my wedding in my hometown of San Antonio, Texas, lovingly paid for by my parents. But from the very start, everything was wrong. It was difficult, over-thought, a version of stress I hadn't yet known.My mom and I have always had a great relationship. We're like-minded and get along well. But she also likes things her way and has a tendency to be inflexible when it comes to how something should be done. Like how many people to invite (400) or when to do the hora (after the meal) or if the bridesmaids all needed to have matching shoes (I put my foot down on that one).Every day, there was something new to figure out, worry about, and, moreover, argue about. But, as she was the benefactor of our wedding, I could only argue so much. It started to take its toll on our relationship.I also argued incessantly with my Long Island-raised fiancé, Adam. Although we're both from Jewish families, we found things were done very differently between the East Coast and the South. Each of us thought we were right. And, even when I agreed with Adam, my mother did not.

Meanwhile, the wedding tab rose like layers on a cake. Which by the way, cost about $800. Between my dress, the flowers, the spotlights put in to accentuate the flowers, the food, the band we brought in from Austin, rented tablecloths and chivari chairs, welcome party at our home, custom layered invitations — are you bored yet? That's not even one-third of the list. My wedding bill was gaining extra zeros by the minute.

It was a beautiful affair and we had a blast. I think? It seems like a distant memory. Or, for my mom, no memory. She was so overwhelmed and crazed she says she hardly remembers anything.

And then, three years later, Adam and I got divorced. It was an incredibly hard decision to make and, as crazy as it sounds, partly because I was laden with guilt about what my parents had spent on the wedding. How could I possibly end my marriage after all that time, effort, and money?

Thankfully, my parents are wonderful and supportive. They just want me to be happy and live the way I need to. But that doesn't change the remorse I feel every time I think of that giant chunk of change, forever lost. What could we all have done with that money? Initially my dad made a play for us to elope and keep the cash. At the time, I think he had no idea the final tally his wife and daughter racked up would be so high, but nonetheless — it's hard not to view it as a huge waste.

I'm not saying I don't believe in weddings — I do. I attend plenty of them. I've observed all these events through a different lens. They ranged in price, location, and basically every way possible. Some were more DIY which were great but put more stress on the bride, groom, and family. One was an all-out rockstar affair that I still tell stories about to anyone who will listen. Another was a hip but modest rooftop party with only passed hors d'oeuvres and limited bar. The point is, there's no right way to do it. But I do believe it's completely unnecessary to spend half your life savings or tap into your retirement fund to have a stellar nuptial event.

I've been with my boyfriend for three years and we're talking about next steps. I want to do something special to commemorate it and to celebrate with our loved ones, but that could take on many different forms. As long as we do something that feels very "us," that creates a lasting memory for ourselves and a story to tell our future children, I will be more than satisfied. I don't want to start our marriage at a deficit. Beginning our lives together should be about all the opportunities we stand to gain.