Photos From Our First Wedding
Snapshots of 2 September 2017
The day was beautiful. The sun shone throughout and the breeze off the Atlantic was warm, not uncomfortably hot. We were on the Portuguese coast, only a few metres from the southwestern edge of Europe. Every building that comprised our boutique hotel, Senhora da Guia, was painted canary yellow, which seemed to absorb and amplify the sunlight. The property was surrounded by palm trees and the lawn was freshly cut. A stunning setting for a ceremony. N and I had been together for two-and-a-half years, this was our first wedding as a couple.
Two of our London friends were getting married. He was from Manchester, she was a New Yorker, and they wanted to get married somewhere more idyllic than the cities they were from. I was a close mate of his. We were part of a quintet of guys — four Canadians and he, the lone Englishman — aka “The Boys.” She and N had recently grown close, so we were delighted to be invited to Cascais, outside of Lisbon, to celebrate them. The only other member of The Boys who could make the trip was my best friend, D.
The three of us, N, D and I, were very tight. We didn’t know anyone else at the wedding besides the happy couple, but didn't mind, we always had a great time together. We’re extroverts, and especially friendly when fueled by an open bar.
Earlier that summer, I was asked to co-officiate the wedding, alongside her best friend, M. They said they wanted hosts who were confident, charismatic, and adept at public speaking; apparently, M and I were their obvious choices. It was my first officiating gig. I was honoured to be asked, and said yes straight away, but as the day loomed, I become quite nervous, unsure of the task. I hadn’t attended many weddings at that point, and nearly all of them were in a church, presided over by a priest, with a fixed script and strict order of events.
There’s remarkable irony in me, long-time rejector of traditional institutions and rituals, especially anything rooted in religion, officiating a wedding. Friendship, however, matters more to me than moral stances, and I love being of service to those I care about. So there I was, standing under a white-clothed arch with M, uniting our two friends in secular matrimony.
The whole wedding ceremony is a blur to me now. The memory of that day I cherish most, with the aid of one indelible photograph, is the after-party.
The photo depicts N, D and I in the canary-coloured courtyard of the hotel, late in the evening. In the background are some white-shirted men and summer dressed women; fuzzy and forgettable people to us then and now. It’s so wonderfully in-the-moment that the photo almost looks staged. D and I are each holding a lit sparkler in the air. N is holding a sparkler in her right hand, pointing it away from her face, and her left palm is reaching up towards my sparkler, seemingly in defence. I was probably waving my arm, so I imagine she’s trying to prevent sparks from falling on her, futile as that may have been. N’s face might be the most amusing feature of the photo – a split-second expression of surprise, apprehension, and joy. D wears a huge grin, cigar between his teeth, and is squinting towards the camera with bleary eyes from a long day of unlimited wine. I’m looking directly into the lens; smiling, self-assured, comfortable in my own skin. Happy. Flanked by my two favourite people, celebrating the union of our friends, in an incredible setting.
Looking now, nine years later, I think the photo captures our experience of that day perfectly: slightly awkward and nerve-racking, but mostly fun and sweet. It also reminds me of when I was very much in love with N. We broke up a year later; a mutual decision and absolutely for the best. I don’t look at this photo, or any others from our nearly four years together, with regret or sadness. I don’t wish that we’d stayed together longer or that I had a time machine to go back and relive that time in my life. I’m grateful for the life experience of being with N and the adventures we had together. The wedding in Portugal was a highlight of our relationship.
I’ve been to many weddings since, and each time the occasion imparts the same beautiful truth: we absolutely must celebrate when love manifests between two people. On that particular day, the 2nd of September 2017 — and in that precise moment our photo was taken — D, N and I were so full of love. With smiles wide and sparks shooting from our hands, we were celebrating the love we felt for each other and our friends and ourselves. I know because I have the photo to prove it.