I just can’t, with our first look. I can’t. The photos whelm me.
First, the logistics. As you know, I got ready at our home, and Evan got ready about five minutes away at his mom’s home. I had arranged for one of his groomsmen to drive him, and his fiance to drive me, to our first look. (I didn’t ask a bridesmaid because I figured they had things to do, like finishing makeup and packing up and whathaveyou. Plus, I really like Jordie, who drove me, and knew she would be a perfect calming presence!)
Evan and the other photog got to the Statehouse first (gorgeous location) and got into place and, after being given the all-clear, Jordie and I walked in. I was not at all concerned about doing anything more creative than just getting to Evan and seeing him as my impending husband, so we opted for a simple meeting at the bottom of a staircase. Jordie and Jeff wandered away, presumably to give us some privacy and discuss their own impending nuptials, and Evan and I…well, here, let the photos tell you:
After we had enough hugging, and excited chattering, and wordless beaming, Evan and I headed to another part of the Statehouse for a mini portrait session.
I’ll say this about our first look: it was exactly perfect. There aren’t any photos of us crying and it’s not because we’re not tearful people- I cry at the drop of a hat, and got very emotional coming down the aisle. But for me, our first look was less emotional, and more…of a relief, maybe? I guess I just view Evan as my ‘home base’ of sorts- I’m an independant woman and certainly stand on my own without him, but slipping my hand into his is kind of like…an exhale. It sounds cheesy, but when we finally hugged at the bottom of the staircase, it was sort of like, “yes! We’re here, we’re ready, we’re getting married- let’s get this show on the road!”