When my younger sister called in November 2022 to say she was getting married, I was slow to connect the dots.

“YAAAAY!” I screeched into the phone. Meg had been my maid of honour a couple of years earlier, and now I’d be hers. I turned and roared over my shoulder, “Meg and Ken got engaged!” in the general direction of my husband, Nick.

From 10 feet away, he grinned and winced, possibly reflecting on his own marriage to a human car alarm. However, after a giddy few minutes of chatter, the realisation hit me like a bridal bouquet to the face: “Oh, crap .”

“Yep,” Meg said.

“I have to give a speech at your wedding, don’t I?”

“Yep,” Meg confirmed.

And just like that, my excitement mutated into 270 days of dread.

Some people get butterflies in front of an audience. For me, it’s killer

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