
There are seasons in life that don’t follow the plans we carefully make. Moments when everything slows, shifts, or asks us to wait longer than we expected. For me, that season began when I was 19 years old and diagnosed with cardiomyopathy, a journey that would quietly shape the way I see time, love, and what truly matters.
For years, I learned patience in ways I never imagined I would. There were moments of uncertainty, but also moments filled with grace. My family, my fiancé, and the people closest to me became my steady ground, reminding me that even when life feels fragile, we are never walking through it alone.
In July of 2024, I received a heart transplant, a gift that saved my life and marked the beginning of a new chapter. Recovery was not immediate, but it was filled with gratitude. Today, I am healthier, stronger, and deeply thankful for the season I am in now.
Because of this journey, my fiancé and I made the difficult decision to postpone our wedding. It was not an easy choice. Like so many couples, we had plans, timelines, and dreams already in motion. Letting go of a date we once held so tightly came with its own kind of grief, but also with clarity. We were reminded that a wedding is not defined by a single day on the calendar, but by the life that follows it.
I know we are not alone in that experience. Many couples are asked to pause their plans for reasons beyond their control, whether due to health, loss, or family circumstances. It can be deeply emotional to navigate joy and uncertainty at the same time. It can feel isolating, even when surrounded by love.
This season changed my relationship with time. It taught me the importance of presence and the quiet beauty of slowing down. It deepened my faith and strengthened my trust that God’s timing, even when unexpected, is still intentional.
These lessons naturally shape the way I approach my work. Weddings are not just about carefully planned details or perfect timelines. They are about connection, meaning, and the people who show up for you in every season. The way hands reach for one another, the emotions shared with family, the moments that unfold naturally. These are the memories that last.
I approach every wedding day with intention and care, fully aware of how meaningful it is to preserve moments that may never happen again in quite the same way. Photographs become reminders not only of how beautiful a day was, but of how deeply loved you were within it.
Life does not always unfold as planned. But even in the pauses, there is beauty. And the moments rooted in love, resilience, and presence are the ones that matter most.