My friends are getting married

We used to stay up way too late talking about everything and nothing—homework abandoned, music playing low from someone’s laptop. We dreamed about the future like it was a movie we hadn’t seen yet. A blur of cities, jobs, weddings, people we hadn’t met. We used to stay up to late laughing in the kitchen of our old college houses with green countertops. Now, I watch those dreams take shape. I sit in the back row with a camera in my lap or a glass in my hand and I see it: the people they chose, the vows they speak, the kind of love they believe in. It’s wild and quiet and ordinary and beautiful. It all became so real, so fast.

Not just names on save-the-dates, but real people I used to share dorms and dining halls and late-night ice cream with. I’ve stood beside them in dance circles and whispered pep talks before game days. Most of the time, with a disposable in my back pocket.

It’s surreal, in the best way. Because these are the people who knew me when I was figuring out who I was. When none of us had it all together. And now I get to watch them promise forever.

There’s something incredibly special about photographing those moments—not professionally, but personally. Like bottling up a season of life that used to feel infinite. A look across the room, a hand squeeze, a flash of laughter that feels like home.

These aren’t portfolio photos. They’re memory keepers. Honest, imperfect, deeply loved.

My friends are getting married. And I get to witness it—not just with my eyes, but with my whole heart.