For a second after waking up I smile, stretching out on the hotel bed. This is my wedding day. Then reality crashes in and I start to cry.I remember that my beautiful dress is still hanging untouched in the boutique, and my groom is nowhere to be found. Despite the thousands spent, there will be no rings exchanged, no heartfelt vows.Because I had called off my picture-perfect wedding to my partner of six years with just two weeks to go.In that moment, it felt devastating. But now, almost a year on, I wish more women preparing to walk down the aisle would listen to their instincts and follow my lead.I was 20 when I met Ben on a dating app in February 2018. I wasn’t looking for anything serious; I was finishing my first year working as a nurse and had travel plans.After months of hanging out it became clear something was happening between us. He was kind, handsome and thoughtful. We began dating in 2019, and soon we were in love. I had always longed to find the perfect person, get married and be happy together for ever like my parents. I wanted the next person I fell for to become my husband.And yet, things were not always picture perfect.There were times when we’d argue about small things and not speak for days, leaving me wondering if we were meant to be together. But I loved Ben and told myself all long-term relationships have rocky moments. Like so many women, I ignored the ‘small’ issues in pursuit of the bigger picture. In that moment, it felt devastating. But now, almost a year on, I wish more women preparing to walk down the aisle would listen to their instincts and follow my lead, writes Ayen Manahan Ayen had always longed to find the perfect person, get married and be happy together for ever like her parents. She wanted the next person she fell for to become her husbandWhen I was 26, after five years together, Ben whisked me off to Canada, where he proposed. I was so happy; finally we could move past the fights. This was the start of our next chapter.I couldn’t wait to start organising our big day, to which we invited 230 guests.It did bother me that Ben’s only contribution was to arrange the tuxedos and a dance for his groomsmen. However, I told myself that lots of grooms aren’t that interested in wedding planning.Yet as the weeks passed, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right. We felt even more distant, less affectionate than we’d ever been. But I pushed my doubts away.Then there was the money being spent. Our parents paid around £13,000 for the venue and catering, the suits were £5,000 and the dresses almost £9,000. The whole day would cost at least £30,000. It felt like a speeding train that couldn’t possibly be stopped.With three weeks to go, Ben made a speech at my hen do in which he declared how lucky he felt. Suddenly it all seemed so fake. When we kissed, I realised it was the first embrace we’d shared in weeks. How could I plaster on the same pretend smile at my wedding?The next day I asked him: ‘Do you still want to marry me?’My heart sank when he replied, ‘I don’t know.’ When Ayen was 26, after five years together, Ben whisked her off to Canada, where he proposed Ayen couldn’t wait to start organising their big day, to which the couple invited 230 guests Their parents paid around £13,000 for the venue and catering, the suits were £5,000 and the dresses almost £9,000 (pictured, Ayen in her wedding dress) With three weeks to go, Ben made a speech at her hen do in which he declared how lucky he felt. Suddenly it all seemed so fake‘Do you still love me?’ I continued.He paused before repeating: ‘I don’t know.’I jumped up and left, crying hysterically. In the days that followed I was a mess. We tried to talk on the phone but ended up yelling, before agreeing to meet in person a week later.I felt strangely calm as Ben laid out three options. The first was we go ahead with the wedding and hope everything worked out. The second was we postpone the wedding and work on our relationship. The third was to call it off and go our separate ways. I knew then what my heart and gut had been telling me: the wedding may be two weeks away, but it had to be cancelled.I realised I’d been so swept up in our plan for the future that I hadn’t admitted to myself the love between us had gone.I felt sick at the thought of the thousands spent and the hundreds of people invited. But I also felt a huge weight lifted. Pretending for other people’s sake wasn’t worth a lifetime of my own unhappiness.I swung from relief to sadness. My parents supported me unconditionally. I felt so guilty to realise the venue and caterers were non-refundable, until my mum and Ben’s mum decided to turn it into a church fundraiser.As the hotel room I’d booked for the night before the wedding couldn’t be cancelled, I decided not to waste it. So that’s where I woke up – alone – on what should have been our wedding day last October.Despite my initial tears, I felt lighter than I had in months. I didn’t feel sad or embarrassed, just relieved.So to any woman facing uncertainty in the run up to her wedding, or who has resigned herself to Mr Just OK instead of waiting for Mr Right, please listen to your gut. Calling off your wedding is scary – but it’s less scary than a lifetime of regret.Follow Ayen at tiktok.com/@ayen_man_As told to Kate Graham