The Ceremony Before the Ceremony
When we stood together on our wedding day, making vows to each other, our family, and our friends, it felt like the culmination of something much larger than a single moment. It began long before we were both both — with our parents, our families, our friends and our ancestors — seeds sewn long before these times, that we tried our best to nurture and sustain. The ceremony had begun long before the rings, the speeches, or the vows. It started in the conversations, the planning, and the deep reflection we shared in the months leading up to the day. It started with the stories, the commitments, and the love that had been shaping us both for years.
This is the first in what may become a series of reflections — because one post could never capture everything. For now, I’d like to begin where the ceremony truly started: in the before.
Preparing the Ground: Building the Foundations
Our wedding wasn’t just an event; it was the expression of a deep bond — one that took time and intention to craft. When we sat down to write our vows, it was clear that they weren’t just about us as individuals or even as a couple. They were about our community. We wanted to acknowledge the people who raised us, who shaped us, and who stood by us, and we wanted to ask for their continued guidance and support. In return, we offered our own promises — to honour their love, to seek their wisdom when we falter, and to live our commitments in a way that nurtures not only ourselves but also those younger and yet to be born.
Writing those vows felt like planting seeds. We didn’t know exactly how they would grow, but we trusted that with care and honesty, they would thrive.
The metaphors we leaned on during those months spoke to us in ways that were almost poetic. We talked about "cultural parenting" and "mothering a culture" — this idea that marriage is about more than two people. It’s about creating something that nurtures and inspires those around us. We leaned on the idea of ceremony makes it possible for something otherwise invisible, to appear before us. We understood that after the wedding, nothing would be the same.
The Role of Family and Community: A Shared Journey
One of the most beautiful aspects of our wedding was how deeply we felt the presence of our community. From the beginning, we knew this was not just about us but about everyone who has walked alongside us. Our vows reflected this, and so did the day itself.
We’d like to pause here to share some beautiful pictures of special people who made it all possible.
Your love and care didn’t just show up on the wedding day; they’ve been with us all along. You reminded us that this journey is one we never walk alone.
The Wedding Day: A Moment of Convergence
When the day finally arrived, it felt like every thread we’d been weaving suddenly came together. From the music that played as we entered to the words we spoke and the laughter we shared over dinner, everything felt deeply personal and alive.
The ceremony itself was magical. The two of us, surrounded loving faces, our vows and all of the love.
The speeches were a highlight — a tapestry of humour, heart, and wisdom.
And yet, what struck us most wasn’t any one moment but the overwhelming sense of connection. This wasn’t just a celebration of love; it was a celebration of us — as individuals, as a couple, and as a part of something much larger.
Celebration: The Joy in the Imperfection
Our wedding was not only a ceremony of commitment but also a celebration of the full, messy, beautiful spectrum of life. It was laughter spilling over, voices raised in song, and clumsy, wholehearted dancing. It was a space where nothing needed to be perfect, only honest.
There is a passage that feels fitting here, one that reminds us that celebration is not about flawlessness — it is about presence. About welcoming all that we are, all that we have been, and all that we will be.
"At this party, we are dancing, To ten thousand folksongs. Each song cracks and falters, And is more darkly holy, For every defective note." ~ A Party For the Broken - Tom Hirons
In this spirit, our wedding was a party for the broken and the whole, for the ones who have stumbled but kept moving, for the ones who have loved and lost and loved again. The food, the speeches, the music — they were not just elements of an event; they were invitations to be together in all our radiant, imperfect ways.
We danced, not just as two people, but as a community. Each misstep and every out-of-sync beat only made the moment more alive.
Because this was never just about two people standing at the altar. It was about the ten thousand folk songs behind us, the hands that held us up, the voices that guided us here. And it was about the songs we will keep singing, loudly and badly, for years to come.
Looking at the Wake: Reflections After the Day
Now that the wedding itself has passed, we find ourselves thinking often about the metaphor of "looking at the wake." It’s tempting to focus on the horizon, always moving forward, but there’s so much beauty in pausing to reflect on where you’ve been. Our wedding day was just one, very special point along the way, but it holds all the weight of what came before and all the hope of what lies ahead.
Over time, we’ll be sharing more stories and reflections — about the planning process, the lessons learned, and the moments that will stay with us forever. But for now, we’ll end with this: the ceremony didn’t start on our wedding day, and it didn’t end there either. It’s ongoing, just like the love and gratitude we feel for everyone who made it possible. Thank to everyone for being part of this journey.
Partners in Love and Laughter
On that day, we stood at the center of it all. Surrounded by the love of our families, our friends, and our community, we made promises not just to each other, but to the life we are building together. It was a day of vows and celebration, of deep meaning and wild joy.
But every other day? Every other day, we are simply each other’s most trusted partner. Not always at the center, not always in the light, but always side by side.
In the quiet moments of laughter over morning coffee. In the long conversations that stretch deep into the night. In the moments of challenge, when we hold each other steady. In the moments of triumph, when we are each other’s first and loudest cheer.
We are, and will always be, part of something greater than just ourselves. A marriage is not an island. It is a thread woven into a much larger tapestry — one stitched together by love, by history, by the people who have shaped us, and by those who will follow.
On our wedding day, the world turned its eyes to us, but the real magic is in every day after. The way we continue choosing each other. The way we remain each other’s greatest adventure, each other’s soft place to land.
Partners in love, in laughter, in all the quiet and extraordinary days to come.
Gratitude and Hope
To those who were with us in person, in spirit, or in memory: thank you. You are part of our story, and we hope our story can, in some small way, be part of yours. Here’s to all the beginnings yet to come.
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