What Actually Happens on a Wedding Day

There’s this quote from the movie Shall We Dance that has always stuck with me:

“We need a witness to our lives. There’s a billion people on the planet… I mean, what does any one life really mean? But in a marriage, you’re promising to care about everything. You’re saying: Your life will not go unnoticed because I will notice it. Your life will not go unwitnessed because I will be your witness.”

That’s the heartbeat of every wedding day I film — the witnessing, not just of the big, shiny, orchestrated moments, but of the quiet truths and feelings underneath it all.

Because what happens on a wedding day is so much more than a highlight reel.

Yes, you get dressed up. You’ll cry and laugh. You’ll gather with your people. You’ll dance and toast and take photos that freeze your smiles in time. But that’s just the surface.

What actually happens on a wedding day?

You wake up that morning and you feel it. Maybe nerves, maybe calm, maybe a complicated swirl of excitement and grief. You might think of the people who can’t be there. A parent. A friend. Even a version of yourself you had to let go of. You might think of all the versions of your relationship that had to exist to bring you here. The messiness, the triumphs, the quiet Tuesdays you didn’t know would matter.

You’ll try to eat breakfast even though your stomach is a little tight. You’ll hear music playing faintly while everyone gets ready, the soundtrack to this becoming.

And if you’re anything like the couples I get the privilege of filming, you’ll wonder how it’s all going to go. Will everything go to plan? Will it feel the way you hoped? Will everyone behave? Will the weather hold? Are your expectations going to be let down?

Because sometimes things don’t go to plan. A zipper breaks. A timeline shifts. A relative says the wrong thing. Sometimes the day feels a little fast or a little weird or a little heavy in parts.

And that’s okay.

It’s okay because this is life. This is you moving through all of it. Moving through the rush, the pauses, the laughter that bubbles up when someone inevitably steps on your dress or spills their champagne. You feel the knot in your throat during the ceremony. You might catch someone’s eye in the crowd, and the weight of time hits you. How long you’ve all been loving each other, how far you’ve come. You cry because you and your partner touch, and there is a gentle knowing that this is the person who sees all of you and will continue to for the rest of your life.

And then you exhale. You eat something. You hear the clinking of glass, the warmth of toasts made in your honor, the music that starts pulling people to the dance floor.

You realize this is what witnessing feels like.

We don’t gather to put on a show. We gather to say, I see you. I’m here for this. I’ll remember this day with you.

That’s what I get to capture as your wedding videographer. The tangles of emotion. The imperfection and the beauty of presence.

A wedding is not just a performance of tradition or a Pinterest board coming to life. It’s a deeply human experience. Sometimes messy, sometimes sacred, sometimes silly. But always, always meaningful.

What actually happens on a wedding day?

You become a witness. To yourself. To your partner. To the life you’re building.