Ushered behind a curtain, my heart skipped a beat when I saw the four wedding gowns hanging on the rail. Each one was suited to my kitsch dream: there was lace, sparkle, satin and feathers to spare. But there was also one glaring mistake…. All of these dresses put aside for me to try on were a size 10 – but I’m a size 24. Terrified that they were going to rip apart the moment I stepped into them, I called the sales assistant back in to raise my concerns.

I expected her to give some sort of explanation, to say they’d been left there from her last appointment or something and that she would now go and choose dresses in my size. After all, the reason I’d picked this shop was because their website stated they went up to a size 30. Instead, she grabbed some clothes pegs and clipped one of the smaller dresses to my bra straps like a paper doll. Trying to hide my shock and disappointment, I put on a fake smile and pretended it was normal for me to parade around a shop, in front of my family, essentially naked, with my back fat on full display.

The appointment was one humiliation after another from there and I left feeling angry. I may be fat, but why should that stop me from having the same enjoyable wedding planning experience as everyone else?. Ever since I was about 12 years old – when a family member told me I was ‘too fat to have friends’ – I have struggled with body image and confidence and losing weight has been something akin to a full-time job.

For years it consumed everything I did. Invited to a party: how much weight could I lose beforehand? Planning a holiday: better book 18 months in advance so I can lose weight in time. And when it came to dating, I never thought anyone would want me if I was bigger, so I simply didn’t. Over the years I have lost huge amounts of weight or reached my ‘goal weight’, but whenever I did, I always discovered the same thing – that I still didn’t feel good enough.

It took until I was 32 to realise that I had wasted the best part of 30 years waiting to be thin and I didn’t want to do that anymore. I’ve worked on my body image ever since by saying something positive about myself whenever I looked in the mirror. While it’s been a long difficult road, mostly because it seemed impossible that I could ever be happy without being thin, eventually I started to accept the skin I was in.

This then led to me feeling confident enough to date and join Bumble in March 2022 and it was on there that I met my now fiancé, after 26 first dates. He instantly won both me and, more importantly, my dog over with his kindness and enthusiasm, so I knew he was a keeper. Plus, his daily proclamation that I have his favourite smile and the best bum feels completely sincere. So when he proposed while we drove around Scotland on the North Coast 500 in our campervan in April last year, I was naturally excited for it to be my turn.

That may not sound surprising, I’m sure that’s a normal reaction for anyone who gets engaged, but for me, it showed just how far I’d come. Before finally accepting my body the way it is, I’d contemplated my hypothetical wedding many times – an occupational hazard when you’ve been a wedding photographer for 13 years – but I’d always thought it was something I’d only do when I was thin.

I’d even imagined myself turning down a proposal if I was fat because I didn’t want a ring that was sized for my fat fingers. But now, I could jump into wedding planning head first without hesitation and first on my agenda was the dress. Though shopping for clothes as a fat person is more troubleshooting than fun at the best of times, I still had a pretty romantic view of wedding dress shopping. I thought I’d be treated to the experience you see in movies and on TV – champagne, a podium, a plethora of options and my mum crying when I put on ‘the one’. And while I did eventually find that experience, on the whole, it’s been far from it.

Starting with the research, I was fairly realistic and knew I’d need to go somewhere that catered to plus sizes. However, it was disheartening to learn just how many shops that claim to be ‘size inclusive’ were anything but. I discovered many boutiques only go up to a size 18, or only carry two plus size samples. Even then, the overwhelming options straight size people have dwindled to a variation on the same three styles once you’re deemed plus size.

Apparently fat people don’t want to follow trends, they just want to get their cleavage out while hiding everything else. Let’s not also forget the staggering discrepancy in costs. If you’re under a size 18, you can buy decent high-street wedding dresses for as little as £200, but it’s near impossible to find something plus size ready-to-wear. It’s not fair. For me, the nearest bridal shop that said they stocked my size was miles away, and there seemed to be no other choice.