The Wedding vs. The Marriage - a Note From a Photographer Who’s Also Planning Her Own
A beautiful photo of our proposal in Adriatica Village, captured by West Images
I’m currently planning my own wedding, and in the middle of venue research and floral consultations and the thousands of decisions that come with building a day from scratch, I find myself returning to the same quiet reminder that I have to speak out loud sometimes to myself and my fiancé.
This is not about the tablescape.
It’s not about the dress, or the florals, or the perfectly curated aesthetic, or even the venue we say the words “I do” in. And I say that as someone who genuinely loves all of those things! As a wedding photographer, I have an affinity for detail. I notice the way candlelight falls across a reception table. I have been awed by a well-designed ceremony space. I’m not immune to the beauty of a stunning wedding day because it’s what I’ve built my life’s work around.
But I’ve also stood behind my camera at enough weddings to know something with quiet certainty. The ones that feel most alive are never defined by their budget. They’re defined by the presence of the people in them, and by love so tangible it fills the frame without any direction at all.
There’s a reason my business has always been rooted in John 10:10 - “I have come that they may have life and have it abundantly.” Abundance, in its truest form, was never about what something costs. And on your wedding day, it’s about the depth and beauty of the covenant you are creating.
Whether your wedding costs $5,000 or $50,000 or $100,000, the point was never the wedding itself. It was always the marriage. The person across from you at the altar. The covenant you’re making in front of everyone who loves you. As Ecclesiastes 4:12 reminds us, “a cord of three strands is not quickly broken,” that cord, the one woven between two people and One greater than themselves is what every beautiful wedding day is really celebrating.
That’s what I show up to document. Not just the floral installation, but the way he looked at you when the doors opened. Not just the venue, but your grandmother’s hand finding your mother’s during the vows and holding on.
The day marks the beginning, but the marriage is the point.