The Quiet Side of the Story - The Pressure to Cry

The Quiet Side of the Story

I’m starting something new. A little series that I hope becomes a soft place to land, it’s a little different, with little sarcasm and more depth a look on the inside of Wedding Photography, the real REAL behind the scenes if you like. A space for the quieter stories that often go untold. And I figured here is as good a place as any to share it.

Because I know there are couples out there who feel this.

The Pressure to Cry

In nearly a decade of photographing weddings, I’ve witnessed so many different versions of love. Grand, tearful declarations. Laughter that echoes across mountaintops. Packed dance floors, breathless vows, uncontainable joy. And also, the quieter moments. The still ones. The subtle glances, the steady hand-holds, the silent gratitude.

And lately, I’ve been sitting with a thought I can’t quite shake: are we overplaying the need for big emotion on wedding days?

There’s this narrative that weddings must be the most emotional day of your life. That if you’re not overcome with tears or swept up in dramatic declarations, then maybe it didn’t mean as much. But I don’t think that’s fair. And I don’t think it’s true.

Because presence, real, grounded presence, is worth far more than any performative display. And presence often looks… still. Quiet. Inward.

I think of the couples who don’t cry, not because they aren’t feeling deeply, but because they’re soaking it all in, moment by moment. The ones who sit hand in hand during the speeches, smiling softly, saying everything in a glance. The ones who find joy not in the spectacle, but in the simplicity of being together.

There is so much love in the stillness. In the silence. In the moments where no one is watching and you’re not performing , you’re just being.

And that’s something I want to honour more in my work. Not just the high notes, but the hum beneath them. The quiet heartbeat of the day. The way the light falls on a shoulder. The way someone exhales when they realise this is it. The quiet side of the story.

So, if you’re someone who feels deeply but doesn’t always show it loudly, know that your story is still worthy. That your way of loving is not only valid — it’s beautiful.

This post is for you. A love letter to the overlooked. A reminder that not all emotion needs to be extravagant to be meaningful.

Because sometimes, the most powerful moments are the ones that barely make a sound.

Be. Not do.

Let’s embrace the still.