On October 28, 2017 I married the man whose dreams were bigger than mine. I married the man I advised my friends against, the kind that follows you to New York to win you over after knowing you for eight weeks. The man that loves his mother, his sister, his women friends with a fierce respect. The man that fights for my joy. The man I let explore the darkest corners of my mind, and guide me to light.
We knew we wanted a future together less than a year of knowing each other. We went through lots of ups and downs living in a city that doesn’t care about you. We grew up together. We learned about life together. It’s been hard, but so worth it.
We imagined our wedding representing equal parts of each of us. For him, the natural quiet of the outdoors, the bourbon, and the humongous wedding party. And for me the hours of girl-time prep, the intimate ceremony, and the epic dance party.
My friends indulged in my moody music taste while I was getting ready, switching abruptly between Christmas carols and Cardi B. We gulped down mimosas and coffee and watched all of the “Father of the Bride” movies while the boys got their beards trimmed and sipped bourbon at the farm house.
The weather was cold and dreary, bringing out a flock of hawks before the ceremony. Who needs to release doves when your heart is made of murder mysteries and mayhem? Nature knew what mood to set. My bridesmaids refused the leather jackets I suggested to walk down the aisle and kept warm standing as close to each other as possible. You guys were right though, the pictures were worth it. My family took care of the guests running blankets out to the older folks, but no one complained. I walked down the aisle to my favorite hymn and I squeezed my dad’s arm to ward away his tears. I said “I do” with a carefree confidence I don’t think I’d ever had before. We practically ran down the aisle and danced our way to our bridal party for photos. The group shots were easy to capture, we just couldn’t keep our hands off our friends and family.
We gathered in the warm tent for food and dancing. Drinks flowed freely and the dancing was loose. I’m easily one of the most cynical people I know, but as I’m describing my wedding, the usual snark that flows freely through my fingertips feels stagnant. My worries that day were futile. Everything fell into place and I was forced to appreciate the gorgeous group of family and friends, chosen and by blood, that we came from. So thank you.
Thanks Mom and Dad for the beautiful celebration, for planning and funding, but also for saving the day multiple times.
Thanks Lily and Anna for being the best cheerleaders a sister could ask for. Your overflowing emotions throughout the day grounded my own feelings.
Thanks Sarah, Emmie, Mallory, Abby, Mazie, Criston, MK. You will never know the impact you have on my life. I literally could not have made it down that aisle without you.
Daniel, thank you for bringing me and Colby together. You actually are the man.
Sarah H thank you for loving us so hard it hurts sometimes. We are lucky to know you and be supported by your humongous heart.
To my family and his. We are so lucky to have you in our lives. I am who I am because of my huge, wacky group of aunts, uncles, cousins, and outlaws. Cheers. And to Colby’s family, I never knew I could love another group as much as my own.
And to the incredibly fun, supportive, change-making group of friends we call ours; you made my wild dance party dreams come true. Thanks for finishing off all the bourbon and indulging me in my after after party dreams at a slimy Huntsville bar.