Since becoming a celebrant you notice different things. I’ve never been predisposed to mushiness but more in awe of the romanticism of it all. The idea of weddings are beautiful – and as a celebrant, I get to revel in them without the fear and worry of what they cost, if Aunty June will mind being near Cousin Bertha or the messiness that is leaving wet towels on the floor or washing someone else’s socks.
While I’m not adverse to wet towels or washing socks the pressure of having to do that day after day scares me a little bit but I can’t see how I will ever get sick of watching people tell their world those three simple words. ‘I found you!’
It’s not ‘I love you.’ I love a lot of people but what we truly search for is that other person who is your person. The one that you want to wash socks for and history would have it they are generally not the people you’d think they were. You find them in the most mysterious of places. At work, behind sheds, in bars, on ferris wheels, in bad profile photos with dogs, the options are endless but at the end of the day – once you’ve done the hard work and before you’ve started the real work, you get one day. One day when you get to tell your world that ‘I chose you.’
Even in the middle of Vietnam on a Thursday, in a red dress, the look of a wedding day is still the same. You can tell them that you love them everyday for the rest of your life but you should be telling everyone else ‘I found them.’ That’s the true miracle of a wedding.
