Successfully Officiate Your Best Friend's Wedding in 6 Easy Steps

My best friend and I never FaceTime. She's a traditionalist with a knack for sticking to old-fashioned phone calls. So when my FaceTime rang and Ashley's face appeared, I started sobbing uncontrollably. There could only be one reason for her sudden use of iPhone technology — she had a ring on her finger and she needed to show me. My husband thought someone had died as he stormed into the bedroom, finding me gasping for air, my eyes red and swollen, and my inhaler at the ready.

As wedding planning progressed, Ashley, diligent to a fault, found all her ducks in a row. Her New England seaside venue was an easy decision. She selected a caterer without delay, the entertainment was booked, and the dress was meticulously scoured for and finally found at Kleinfeld.

There was one monumental step left in the wedding planning process. Ashley had to find an officiant. Not interested in having a religious ceremony, she decided to ask me to perform the honors. How could I say no to being the first to introduce my best friend and her "male" soulmate as a married couple?

The last part was getting Blake on board. While he took some time, too much time, to think about it, he finally relented. He gave me the go-ahead, but under one condition. After witnessing my mental breakdown upon the news of their engagement, he made me promise that I wouldn't cry during the ceremony. The deal was done. A promise was made. But it was a promise even I knew I might not be able to keep.

Becoming a legal officiant is probably the easiest part of conducting your best friend's wedding. Simply google "How to become ordained online" and an endless amount of options will invade your browser. I became ordained through American Marriage Ministries for free, and in under five minutes! Next, visit the secretary of state's website and submit an application to perform a marriage ceremony in the state of your friend's wedding. These applications sometimes come with a small fee (in my case it was $25). Finally, the marriage license. This piece of paper ensures that the marriage is legal. As the officiant, it is your responsibility to make sure the couple understand the marriage license and that each document is signed both properly and legally. To be honest, this was the scariest part of officiating my friend's wedding. Being responsible for the legality of a newlywed's marriage is a terrifying experience. It wasn't until after the wedding, when all paperwork was accepted by the court, that I was finally able to relax.

Wording is paramount. You cannot officiate a wedding without knowing what the couple want. If they are not religious, can you use the word "God"? Is God part of the union? For some people, sure. For others, absolutely not. Understand the mindset of the couple you are marrying. In my case, Ashley, a fierce feminist, would not like any notations of a man owning his new bride. I knew she would dislike the phrase "I now pronounce you man and wife." However, I did not have the right to make that decision on my own. Together, we opted for "I now pronounce you husband and wife." You may think you know your friends, and you probably do, but never jump to conclusions, and never make assumptions. When you're not sure, ask. Hear the couple out and know what their expectations are. It is their day, not yours. Listen to what they want, and make it happen.

Knowing your audience is absolutely key. We all want to entertain a crowd, especially at a wedding. Personally, I have sat through tedious hour-long ceremonies, desperately awaiting cocktail hour. Sharp one-liners and witty jokes are not always the answer to conquering boredom, though sometimes they are. When a friend of mine officiated his brother's wedding, he opened with, "All of you know why we're here today, but if you don't, you're probably from my side of the family and have been drinking since 11 a.m." It was a hit. Conversely, if I had begun Ashley and Blake's ceremony with a quip like that, the bride's more traditional family would have had my head. Instead, I took the path of what I like to call "gentle humor," which, thank the lord, generated laughs.

Every wedding ceremony is unique in its own way. In order to keep both the couple and their closest family and friends engaged, it is important to keep the dialogue moving at a pace that makes sense. For instance, I opened Ashley and Blake's ceremony with some lighthearted comedy. From there, I began talking about the special qualities that both the bride and the groom possess. This is the stuff people like, the stuff that keeps them listening. But it's important to remember why we're here in the first place. It's a wedding. Put the fun aside for a moment and talk about the sanctity of marriage — boring, perhaps, but necessary. It's a delicate balance, but it's crucial to create a healthy mix of sentimental and quippy anecdotes with the seriousness of the event unfolding.

Officiating a wedding can be an overwhelming experience. While I get a rush of adrenaline from public speaking, I suddenly felt the nerves creep up about five minutes before the start of the ceremony. I felt myself shaking as I walked down the aisle, perhaps from nerves, or from my four-inch stilettos, I'm still unsure. What if people didn't laugh? What if they didn't cry? What if I started to cry? The possibilities were endless, and they were burned into my brain. As the ceremony began, I hit my stride. My "script" was practically memorized, allowing me to take in the positive audience reactions and the beaming bride and groom. But then, I hit a bump in the road. As I approached a sentimental moment, I felt an enormous urge to become "emotional." I took a quick breath and improvised, telling the crowd how I promised Blake I would not cry. They laughed, which bought me a moment to regroup. I suddenly looked down and saw my grandmother's ring on my finger. The same ring I wore to my own wedding three years prior. A wave of calm rushed over me, and the rest of the ceremony was pie. My advice is to come prepared. Perhaps your "calm" is something you can hold in your hand or a mantra you can repeat in your head. Or maybe it's a person in the crowd who can give you the eye contact you need to keep it together. I was extremely lucky to find my calm in the moment, but if I ever officiate a wedding again, I will definitely come prepared.

I have never officiated a wedding in my life, clearly meaning I had no idea how to write a ceremony. What comes first, the vows or the ring exchange? How do I open a ceremony? Where do I throw in the essential "wedding lingo"? I found all my answers on the internet. These days, officiating a friend's wedding is commonplace. Also commonplace? Blogs. I found so many tips and tricks online, as well as a variety of scripts to compare mine to. Access to other people's experiences helped me create a ceremony that would be perfect for my friends. When Ashley told me that she and Blake wanted to include the tying of the fisherman's knot in their ceremony, I had no idea what she was talking about. I found so many different iterations of the fisherman's knot online, I didn't know what to do. I asked Ashley to send me a video or article of exactly what she was looking for. With little knowledge or understanding of the fisherman's knot, I told Ashley that I was going to copy the wording we found online. Worked for her. Worked for me. Problem solved. Thank you, internet!