Luke and I have now been married for four whole years—four incredible years since we said “I do” on a freezing cold Saturday in January. I still can’t quite believe how quickly the time has flown. These years have been magical, memorable, and full of so much love, laughter, and the little moments that make life together so special.
Our wedding day at the stunning Holkham Hall in Norfolk feels like it was just yesterday. That place will always hold a very special place in our hearts. Every December, we love returning to Holkham for their beautiful Christmas market. Walking those same paths, surrounded by twinkling lights and festive cheer, always brings back such warm memories of our day.
Now, in the spirit of honesty and reflection… if we were to do it all again, I might make a few minor adjustments. Namely:
The seating plan. Because apparently that spreadsheet is the most emotionally charged document you’ll ever create. One wrong chair and it’s no longer a wedding, it’s a full diplomatic incident. Lifelong alliances are threatened, ancient grudges are revived, and an invisible but fiercely defended hierarchy suddenly emerges. Who sits where, next to whom, and why becomes a matter of status, respect, and perceived rank. We went above and beyond, rearranged tables, negotiated like diplomats, and even special-ordered the most aggressively mundane menu imaginable for one particular guest. Tomato soup. Followed by sausage and chips. Gordon Ramsay would be impressed. And yet, somehow, it still wasn’t enough. A masterclass in emotional labor, social hierarchy, and the realisation that no amount of logistical excellence or beige cuisine can satisfy people who believe a place card defines their worth.
The wedding party. Chosen with love, optimism, and very little concern for how things might look four years, or several life lessons later. Since then: unfriended, unfollowed, no explanation. Just drifted off and disappeared so thoroughly it’s as if they were never part of the ecosystem at all. Time, experience, and basic self-respect edited the guest list, archived the group chat, and clarified a few things. Growth occurred. Boundaries were established. Peace was chosen. Thank you for your contribution(or lack of in some cases) You’re welcome.
Thankfully, modern technology exists. And yes, AI has been strategically deployed to remove a few “creative choices” from otherwise perfect photos. Call it growth. Or self-care.
But beyond those small “what ifs,” our wedding was perfect. And so have these four years together been full of ordinary moments made extraordinary just by being with each other. Like our lazy Sunday mornings, sipping coffee and debating whether to have overnight oats or porridge for breakfast. We love our long weekend lie-ins, the quiet moments, and the simple routines that somehow feel so special when we share them.
We’ve traveled, celebrated milestones, and shared countless victories both big and small. And through it all, what’s been constant is laughter, patience, and that quiet, steady love that makes even the most mundane days feel special. Luke is not just my husband, he’s my partner in every sense: my teammate, my confidant, and my favourite person to share both chaos and calm with.
So here’s to four incredible years, and to many more adventures, giggles, adventures, and memories ahead. I couldn’t imagine doing life with anyone else.
Marriage Tip from Me to You : Never underestimate the emotional impact of a seating plan, choose your wedding party wisely, and always keep a sense of humor. And if all else fails… a little strategic use of AI never hurts.
