Yesterday was a rather strong day for me personally.  It marked my last wedding as a photographer; both a sad and exhilarating realization.  When the moment hit me that wedding photography wasn’t what I wanted to do, I was rather shocked.  It hit me so strongly though that I took the hint and promised myself that after my final wedding this year I would no longer shoot them.  This comes as a surprise to those around me, both personally and professionally.  “But it’s such good money”, most say.  “You’re so good at it, this industry will be sad to lose you”, other photographers have echoed.  I heard them loud and clear but I also hear my heart fighting every time I took that drive to meet the bride to get ready for her big day.

I think it’s a combination of many things, some of which were buried and have surfaced over time.  When I first realized that I shouldn’t be a wedding photographer, I was a bit taken aback.  Like the choice had been made for me already and it was up to me to choose and accept and well, I had better choose wisely.  My anxiety was the biggest decision maker at first – or so I think.  I know for a fact that weddings (being a huge social event with SO much pressure) are a huge trigger for me.  It’s everything that brings on a panic attack all rolled into one.  Then the day progresses and I am constantly in front of things that are other triggers for me emotionally.  It’s a bit shocking and sad for me to realize that these are things that I am not yet strong enough to face head on.  I’m too much of an emotional person and hopeless romantic.  My heart ached too badly for different reasons and I couldn’t focus on the chore at hand.  I couldn’t focus on my couples the way they deserved.  I did my best and of course I always went above and beyond for them, but in the depths of my heart, I was so sad and lonely.

The father-daughter dances were definitely something that got the best of me every time.  Tears streamed down my face as I hid behind my camera.  One groom catching me and commenting on how sweet it was – not really knowing the reason for my tears.  I never once made it about me, but my heart broke into a million pieces with each dance.  With each “I Held her First” and “My Girl” – songs I’ll never be able to listen to without my heart feeling like someone is grabbing it by it’s roots and jerking it out of my chest.  Yesterday as I watched the bride’s father help her put the finishing touches on the handmade sign-in book she had made, I silently wept.  I could see my father in him – those weathered hands that once tied the ribbon on our dresses so we could head to church or tied our shoes for the seventh time that day so we wouldn’t fall, now helping tie the knot to hold the book together where others will sign the day he gives his daughter away.  Losing a father is one of the worst things that can happen to a daughter and four years later, I still can’t accept that he’ll never be there for me in these special times.  That these moments were taken from me and there is no option to have them replaced.

Another realization was that my best friend, with whom I have fallen deeply and madly in love with, has given up on marriage.  Not necessarily for everyone, but for himself.  I can’t imagine how sad that must feel, to know that this commitment between you and your partner will never be something you yearn for and feel is the something you want to echo for the rest of eternity.  This personal bond and promise to each other that goes so much deeper than a piece of paper and tax credits.  A promise that someone else took from him.  I can see the difference in us – myself being surrounded by parents that were married until the day my father died and countless other couples that made that vow and decades later still look at each other the way they did when they first met.  I know it must be harder to be surrounded by divorce from the time you were born and to have gone through it yourself at one time.  Does that really mean all hope is lost, though?  I can’t imagine being that cynical and turned off by the option.  It’s not an easy subject that a couple can compromise on because when it comes down to it, one person has to give up on something they believe is right for them.  A core almost involuntary decision that they believe is best for themselves.  I’ve never been the kind of girl that just wanted to get married.  The church, the dress, the bigger the better.  Especially since I’ve gotten older and gone to more and more weddings – I truly believe in that commitment and the ceremony being for the two of you only.  The amount of money spent for those few hours blows my mind and often times it seems as though people lose sight as to why they’re really there in the first place.  So it’s not that I have always seen myself as being married, having a wedding, etc.  It’s the point that I have found the man that I want to spend the rest of my life with and here we sit, 6 years later.  Committed as ever but I have to accept that those vows and promises may never be spoken between us.  You don’t think much of them until you hear them, both traditional and personally written out.  Until you hear two people choke their way through them because those words rush through them like a tidal wave and they cannot hold back any longer this having and holding.  Until you realize that those words may never slip between your lips to the man you love to the moon and back.

So as it is, I can see a light at the end of the tunnel where I can begin to pick up the pieces and work on healing myself both physically and emotionally.  Where I can take life more slowly.  Where my life no longer revolves around next month’s wedding, when I can go on vacation (yes, I even planned my vacation around my biggest wedding just so I could put off any possibility of being eaten by a shark before I could photographer her wedding.  No, I am not kidding), having hour long meditation and mentor sessions with myself just to calm myself down when it isn’t even my fucking day. I’m honored to have been asked to document the love between the couples I have photographed this year and I honestly could not have asked for better brides.  So beautiful both inside and out, they all made me want to be a better person.  I cherish the glimpses I had into the most important day of their lives and the images I was able to create for them.  Only now, I can go forward and figure out what I need to do to begin the healing process and look at life through a different lens, making the photos worth a thousand words even though they may not be worth thousands of dollars.  I don’t know if this will be permanent or not but I do see it as my only option for a long time.  Does this make me selfish?  Perhaps it does, but I have to be true to myself and realize that just because I want something doesn’t necessarily mean it’s the right choice for me.  It’s kind of funny and sick how it all comes full circle.