A Day to Celebrate Love

Our vow renewal was one of the most beautiful days of my life —and also one of the most honest.

I felt radiant that day.

I felt seen and celebrated.

I walked out the door feeling beautiful, held, and fully present.

And that was real.

What was also real was what I felt when I saw the photos afterward.

The woman I felt like that day — the woman in my body, in my heart, in my joy — was about fifty pounds lighter in my mind than the woman I see in the images. I knew I was wearing a size sixteen dress, but I didn’t truly see myself. I didn’t turn sideways in the mirror on purpose. I didn’t want that reflection to interrupt how happy I was to stand next to the man who fought his way back to life.

Seeing the side-profile photos later was painful — not because my body is wrong, but because they showed me what I hadn’t been ready to acknowledge: how much of this last year I privately carried, how numb I became to the weight of it, and how far away from my own body I drifted while holding everything else together.

But here’s what’s also true.

No one at our vow renewal was looking at the softness around my middle. They were listening to our vows. They were watching a man who lived and the woman who walked every step of that journey with him — two souls moving as one. They were witnessing a family celebrating life after a year we weren’t sure we’d survive.

They were soaking in joy.

And so was I.

These photos hold all of it.

The beauty of the day.

The truth of where I’ve been.

The grief of seeing myself clearly.

The pride in how far I’ve come.

And the quiet knowing that I’m ready to return to myself in a new way.

None of this happened alone.

We were held by friends and family who formed the circle that made the day possible — shaping the space while I sat in the makeup chair, climbing trees to hang twinkle lights behind our historic altar, gathering birch and boards for benches, running sound and music, tending to our children, staying late to bring everything home.

It was love in motion — quiet, generous, unspoken, and profound.

This piece isn’t about lingering in the past.It’s about honoring the day, the people who made it beautiful, and the woman who showed up fully even when she didn’t realize how much she was carrying.

It was a day of love —love between us, love surrounding us, and love I’m finally ready to extend to myself.