There’s a particular kind of magic that happens when people show up as their full selves.

For me, that kind of showing up didn’t come naturally. Growing up meant hiding or quieting parts of myself to feel safe — sometimes it still does. You get to a point where living authentically feels like an act of defiance. But I’ve learned to show up fully, without performance, but it still asks for courage every single time.

So when someone chooses to celebrate their love authentically — no edits, no compromises — I intimately know the importance of it, I'm sensitive to it. It hits me deep. It’s more than a declaration of love. It’s a defiant joy.

When I first started photographing weddings, like growing up, I thought my role was to be neutral. Invisible. Stay out of the way and document quietly. But along the way, I just realised I'm not doing anyone justice — there was no style, no artistry, no bold moves, and I’m GAY for heaven’s sake! And it hit me — I thought visibility was just for the couple, but no, it's everything! People wanted me for me, my voice, and they saw what I inherently believed in. They wanted me not just as a witness to their wedding, but as a part of it.

Then the weight of this role really sank in. It was not simply about showing up. I realised I have a responsibility. A responsibility to believe in you and defend your love — as strange as that might sound — I believe in your love, in your right to take up space. I’m your champion and your protector. I stand on the rooftops and shout about your love. I defend it — viciously, if I have to — as something equal and sacred. Because at some point, it hit me: my job matters. And I carry that weight with intention.

This is why I want to unpack it here. It might get uncomfortable for some — I say good. Maybe that shows growth.