Wiltshire · Cotswolds · Bath · Bristol · Somerset · Hampshire · London
Your favourite people are all around you. Your mum is trying not to cry. Your best friend is already laughing because they’ve heard this story before. Someone catches your eye from the second row and gives you that look that says, this is so you.
The music has stopped. For a few minutes, nobody is thinking about the photographs, the canapés or what happens next.
Everyone is listening.
Your story is being told. Not just the big moments, although there may well be some of those, but the things that have made your life together what it is: the adventures, the ordinary days, the ridiculous moments, the things you love about each other and the things that make absolutely no sense to anyone else.
And then you look at each other and make your promises.
That’s the moment everything else has been leading towards.
Think about the two of you telling the story of how you met.
Perhaps you remember the first conversation. Your partner remembers what you were wearing. You remember thinking they were attractive. They remember thinking you were slightly odd.
There is something wonderful about hearing both perspectives on a relationship. The same moment can live differently in two people’s memories.
And then there is the way you are together now: the way you talk, the way you laugh, the little looks that pass between you and the things you agree on without even discussing them.
Gradually, you begin to see what makes your relationship work. And that’s the heart of the ceremony.
You are standing in front of all the people you love, telling them the story of why you chose each other. That’s a story worth telling.
It might start with the obvious question: How did you meet?
But I doubt you’ll stay there for very long.
One story leads to another. You remember the disastrous holiday. One of you suddenly remembers what happened on the third date. You discover that you have completely different memories of the same evening.
You laugh. You tell each other something you haven’t thought about for years.
And somewhere in the middle of all that: you start remembering.
The places you’ve been. The people you’ve become. The routines that are now simply part of life. The things you still argue about. The things you never need to discuss.
And that’s how you get to the heart of what really makes your relationship work. Why, out of all the people in the world, you chose each other.
That’s where the magic in the storytelling starts to happen.
Think about the things you love doing together.
Perhaps you’re happiest disappearing somewhere for the weekend. Perhaps Sunday mornings mean coffee and newspapers, or getting outside whatever the weather. Perhaps you share a love of food, music, travel, family, sport or simply being at home together.
Then there are the things that matter to both of you in a deeper way. Your shared values. The things you care about. What matters to you as individuals and the life you want to create together.
Then there are the differences.
Perhaps one of you likes everything planned well in advance while the other would happily decide what to do when the day arrives. Perhaps one loves a full diary and a house full of people while the other thinks an ideal Saturday involves staying in pyjamas until lunchtime.
And that’s rather wonderful.
Sometimes the differences are exactly what make you work. One brings the calm when the other is worrying. One gets you out of the house; the other reminds you that staying in was probably the better idea.
Then there are the things you simply don’t share. The hobbies you don’t understand. The music your partner can tolerate for approximately seven minutes. The obscure interests, strange habits and little obsessions that make perfect sense to one of you and absolutely none to the other.
Celebrating those differences is part of celebrating what makes your relationship distinctive.
You aren’t meant to be identical. You’re two people with your own interests, opinions, quirks and ways of seeing the world, who have somehow found a way to make a life together.
Imagine sitting among your favourite people and hearing your own story told back to you.
A story you’ve told a hundred times might suddenly sound different when all those pieces of your life sit alongside one another.
A moment that seemed insignificant at the time might say more about your relationship than anything else.
A friend might add something you hadn’t heard before.
A piece of music might take you straight back to somewhere special.
A family tradition might bring another generation into the room.
Your children or closest friends might become part of the ceremony.
There might be laughter. There might be tears. There might be a moment when the whole room goes completely quiet because something has landed exactly as it should.
And then there are all the things that make you who you are. The people you’ve become, the experiences you’ve shared, the things you care about, the things you love about each other, the things that make you laugh and the things that make your relationship yours.
All of those threads come together in the telling of your story.
By the time your wedding day arrives, the ceremony will feel familiar. The story has been shaped. The words have been considered. You know what is going to happen.
Then the day arrives.
People are arriving. Music is playing. Someone is wondering where they’re supposed to stand. Things may take a little longer than expected. Something may surprise you.
That’s weddings.
Years of conducting ceremonies, professional speaking and working with people in complex and often high-pressure situations mean that the person standing at the front knows how to hold a room, read what’s happening and keep everything moving with warmth and confidence.
You don’t need to think about what’s happening behind the scenes.
You can look at each other. Look around the room. Take it all in. Notice your friends laughing. See your mum crying. Hear the words you’ve chosen being spoken.
And if something unexpected happens? It’s handled.
You’re in experienced hands.
Perhaps your grandmother has always wanted to sing at your wedding.
The promises have been made.
The rings are on.
You look at each other.
And then the room erupts.
Everyone is smiling. Someone is crying. Someone is cheering louder than they probably should.
You walk back down the aisle together.
And the rest of your wedding day begins.