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Newlywed Naomi Kent, from Leicestershire, is happily married. But after suffering a near-panic attack on her big day, she has written this piece for Sky News about the pressure to be perfect.

When I envisioned my wedding day, I never imagined the part where I became so overwhelmed I would have to be whisked away by my new husband Dan to lie on a cold, tiled floor, on the brink of a panic attack.

I thought I'd planned for everything. My inner (and sometimes outer when I couldn't keep her under wraps) control freak had a field day making sure every last detail was prepped to perfection. I thought if I did that everything would be fine.

But just after 11pm, after the vows, the idyllic photos, the speeches, the tapas feast, cutting the cake, the first dance, and all the mingling - so much mingling - I found myself struggling to breathe, anxiety creeping in.

Smuggled back to my room by my sister, I was lovingly unhooked from my beautiful but suffocatingly snug dress and carefully placed in the jeans, T-shirt and Reebok high-tops I'd rocked up in beforehand.

When I returned to our guests, I was applauded by friends and family for my "lack of giving a stuff" at whipping off a £2,000 Cinderella-esque gown and swapping it for comfy casuals; everyone oblivious to my near-panic attack.

Inside, I felt like a total failure for not even making it to the end of my wedding without a meltdown.

In the run-up to the big day, I was terrified, googling "wedding anxiety" and searching for help in wedding magazines. But everyone told me I'd be fine on the day. Stress beforehand is normal, they said. On the day it all goes away.

But that wasn't the case for me.

With wedding season under way I'm seeing loads of "Best day EVER"s on Instagram. Each time I get a little pang of sadness that it wasn't for me.

Despite the perfect days you see in the perfect pictures, I suspect this might not be the case for others too. But people don't talk about it because the pressure of perfection is huge. Maybe me writing this will save another anxious bride that guilt.

I had wanted a small wedding; big group situations are like rocket-fuel for my anxiety.

My dream wedding was me, Dan, our parents and siblings in New York. No stress. No expectation. Guaranteed good view, good pizza, good cocktails.

But Dan's dream was the full shebang. Every birthday for him (and not just the big ones), there are 60 people ready for singing and dancing and buffet and cake at his mum's house. It really is some extended family. And their parties are amazing - if you like parties.

Early doors in our engagement he suggested a spreadsheet session to write out our suggested guest list, because in theory I'd look at this whopping list of people and feel better because I knew and loved them all.

And it weirdly kind of did. Which is why I agreed and became swept up in the idea of the fairytale wedding, leaving my New York dream at the door.

But switching from my 12-strong NYC soiree, to 100 by day and another 60-odd by night frazzled me.

If you saw me at a party you'd think I liked parties because I'm a fake-it-till-you-make-it kind of anxious.

If you saw me at my wedding you'd have thought I was having a wonderful time, but underneath, for most of the day, I was freaking out.

The people looking at me. The people judging me, judging my choices.

Do I look okay? Do they like the flowers? Do they like the food?

Are people happy? Are they having a good time?

Do they like the music? The cake? The place names? The 480 paper planes we made by hand to hang as a mad art installation in the middle of the room?

(Honestly, it's like I like stressing myself out.)

In my head, as the bride and the self-dubbed creative half of our partnership, every single one of these things felt like entirely my responsibility.

Of course, no one gave a damn what their place name looked like, or whether I had freesias or peonies, or if the dessert was a bit slow to come out.

But ridiculously, all day long, those peAG百家乐在线官网 thoughts wouldn't go away.

And throughout the evening people kept asking me if I was having the best day of my life, and the real answer was, "No! Help!"

But of course, I couldn't say that. Who wants to hear about a bride who isn't having her dream day because anxiety came and rained on the parade?

Being honest, the best day of my life was the day after we got engaged. We were in Italy, full of pizza and wine and heart-deep in messages of love from all our friends and family back home.

I thought that our wedding might feel a bit like that, but in reality it didn't.

There were parts of the day that were heaven. I loved the ceremony because I could sucker myself to Dan like a leech and feel protected by our eye-to-eye and hand-to-hand contact. And the end goal was marriage, and that part is divine, because there aren't 100 pairs of eyes in our living room on a Friday night watching us while we're watching TV.

The idea of a perfect day might be a reality for some, but that's a lot of pressure for one day. So I have to admit that my wedding day wasn't the best day of my life.

Sorry, Dan. Sorry, Dad. Sorry, everyone.

Was it worth it? I'm married to the man of my dreams. Absolutely.

Would I do it again? No way - I'd be on a plane out to NYC.