There’s this idea we grow up with — that weddings should be perfect. That relationships should be tidy. That love, to be real, should be calm, orderly, and photogenic from every angle. But I’ve been doing this a long time. I’ve stood in more vows than I can count, camera in hand, heart cracked open. And I can tell you this: the best parts of a wedding — and a relationship — are never the polished ones.
They’re the ones that don’t go to plan. The ones that break open the story.
Where the Real Story Lives
Maybe it’s when the sky opens and it starts to rain, and instead of panicking, the couple just laughs and keeps dancing. Maybe it’s the moment the flower girl launches a tantrum right in the aisle, and the groom kneels down and lets her hold his finger like an anchor. Or when the power goes out during dinner and the room stays quiet, lit by candles, and someone starts humming the first song they ever slow-danced to.
Those are the moments people talk about years later. Not the perfection. The presence.
The Perfection Lie
For a long time, I chased perfection. I used to think it was my job to make sure everything looked right. Perfect angles, perfect timeline, perfect light. But here’s the truth I had to grow into: perfection has no texture. It doesn’t stretch. It doesn’t show us who we are.
It’s the cracked, messy, unfiltered pieces of a wedding day — and a relationship — that carry the weight. It’s the spilled champagne, the rain on silk, the nervous shaking hand reaching out. It’s the way two people choose each other through it.
We are not meant to be flawless. We are meant to be felt.
The Wedding Isn’t the Test — It’s the Mirror
When you love someone, really love someone, you don’t fall for their highlight reel. You fall for the way they hold tension. The way they apologize. The way they return to you after an argument and still offer softness. That’s what gets tested on wedding days, especially the ones that go sideways.
And here’s the magic — how you respond to those imperfect moments becomes the story of your marriage. Not just the wedding.
Real Love Has Grit
I’ve watched a groom tear his pants down the seam right before the ceremony. We safety pinned it with the help of his grandma. He walked down the aisle with one hand tucked behind his back, grinning like a kid who got caught doing something sweet and silly.
I’ve seen couples dance through thunderstorms, wipe muddy footprints from their dress trains, cry when the bouquet didn’t arrive, then laugh because it didn’t matter. I’ve watched rain-soaked embraces become the most powerful images in a gallery.
You don’t plan those moments. They just happen. And if you’re lucky, you’re paying enough attention to let them in.
If It’s Imperfect, It’s Probably Beautiful
This isn’t about lowering the bar or not caring about the day you’ve spent months planning. This is about expansion. It’s about creating space for something more meaningful than control.
It’s about seeing the wine stain on the dress not as a failure, but as a marker of presence. It’s about knowing the story is richer because of what broke.
If you want a wedding that feels like you, let it be a little wild. A little unexpected. Let the weather come. Let the timing drift. Let someone forget their lines. That’s the part you’ll remember. That’s the part that cracks you open.
Your Love Story Isn’t a Script
It’s a living, breathing thing. And when you invite a photographer in, you’re not hiring someone to make it look perfect. You’re inviting someone to see it fully — to notice the way you squeeze each other’s hands when you think no one’s watching. To catch the breath before the vow. To hold the room still when your father breaks down during a toast.
Those aren’t shots I pose. Those are the ones I feel.
And those are the ones that stay.
Planning a Wedding? Don’t Just Curate — Connect.
If you’re planning your wedding and worried about every detail falling into place, I see you. But I also want to offer this: the beauty you’re craving is already there. In how you love. In how you stay calm when the plan shifts. In how you return to each other over and over, despite the imperfections.
I’m here to help you hold all of it.
Contact me here to talk about photography that honors the full spectrum of your day — the joy, the stillness, the mess, and the meaning.
Let’s make something real together.
