06/03/2025
This May 31st was different.
It was the first time I ever took on a wedding on my birthday—turning 33, surrounded by beauty, pressure, and the kind of magic only a wedding day can bring. But it ended with heat stroke, two days of recovery, and some hard-earned truths about what it means to love what you do… even when it doesn't always love you back the way you hoped.
After over 7 years of running my own wedding company, this day taught me that no matter how experienced or dedicated you are, there is always room to grow and protect your peace.
💡 Here’s what I learned:
1. My team and I are capable of serving 150+ guests with skill and heart. We showed up, we hustled, and we delivered—despite intense heat and limited working conditions.
2. I need to ask even more questions upfront—because “oh it’s at a hangar” doesn’t tell me the massive doors will stay open for hours and ruin delicate items like florals and cake. I need to know where I'm prepping fresh food onsite so I can keep it safe, elegant, and worthy of the couple.
3. I need to deal with the logistics team—not just the couple. Because when I try to be accommodating and “just figure it out,” I end up getting burned. Literally and metaphorically.
4. I’ve never had an event where I wasn’t told someone was unhappy—and not given the opportunity to fix it in the moment. That part? Hurt. Because I pride myself on solutions. I move mountains for my couples. I never walk away from a problem—I lean in. But this time, I didn’t get the chance. And that silence spoke volumes.
This experience broke me a little. But only in the way the right lessons do—breaking you open, not down. Letting you rebuild stronger boundaries, clearer expectations, and a deeper sense of pride in how far you’ve come.
So yes—I worked a wedding on my birthday.
Yes—it nearly broke my body.
Yes—I cried on the drive home.
But I also learned. And I’m still here—grateful, wiser, and more committed than ever to making magic for those who see the heart I put into it.
If you’re reading this and you’ve been through a moment like this in your field: I see you. Keep learning. Keep rising. And above all—protect the light you bring to this world
