I’ll never forget the phone call. A friend of a friend was getting married, and they needed a photographer. “We don’t need anything fancy,” they said. “Just someone to capture the moments.” I said yes immediately, even though I had no professional experience and only basic gear.

The wedding was small—a backyard ceremony with about 30 guests. As I arrived, the weight of the responsibility hit me. These weren’t just photos; these were memories that the couple would look back on for decades. My hands shook as I adjusted my camera settings, hoping no one noticed my nerves.

The day was a blur of emotions. I remember running around trying to get every angle, crouching awkwardly behind bushes to frame the couple under a flower arch, and accidentally tripping over a chair during the cake-cutting ceremony. But in between the chaos, there were moments of magic: the bride laughing as the wind blew her veil into the groom’s face, a candid hug between the couple’s grandparents, the soft glow of fairy lights during the first dance.

Looking back at those photos now, I can see the technical flaws—some were overexposed, others slightly out of focus. But the emotions were real, and that’s what mattered most to the couple. They loved the photos, and their gratitude gave me the confidence to keep pursuing photography.

That first gig taught me that perfection isn’t the goal; connection is. It’s about being present, noticing the little details, and telling a story through your lens.