
Jestem Kate. I am photographer.
And I do weddings.
When I introduce myself like this, I often see a slight disappointment in people's eyes.
As if they expected to hear: war, nature, street. Something with World Press Photo in the background.
And here? Cakes. Bouquets. Shot list from auntie.
I could explain that weddings are one of the hardest genres of photography. That it's 8 hours non-stop where every second is unrepeatable. That it's simultaneously document and art, reportage and portraits, theater and truth.
But why bother? Some will only see the white dress anyway.
I remember the day I stopped explaining. The bride – instead of the standard "thank you for the beautiful photos" – said something strange: "I won't forget how you held my hand and reminded me that this was our day."
Reminded? But it's obvious it's their day.
Unless it's not.
I observe weddings from the inside.
I see how your own day becomes a performance for others, often near-strangers. How "it's always been done this way" suffocates "we'd like it different."
How the bride cries, but not from emotion, from exhaustion of playing consecutive roles: granddaughter for grandma, daughter for mother, friend for bridesmaids, daughter-in-law for mother-in-law, dream fiancée for husband.
And for herself?
For herself, there's no strength left.
—-
In my family home, everyone graduated in economics. Me too.
I worked a corporate job, had a plan for a safe life.
But I chose uncertainty.
No, that's not true. Uncertainty chose me.
It's the one that makes me ask uncomfortable questions: Do you really want this dance? Why do you need guests you don't like?
Whose wedding is this anyway?
My specialty?
Photographing moments when people forget they're being photographed.
When the bride's father goes out for a smoke, though he quit years ago.
When the groom's mother touches up her makeup after her son said "I love you" – but not to her.
When the bride hugs her mother longer than usual, as if apologizing for growing up.
When the groom's confident face briefly reveals a stressed boy.
Someone will say: that's unprofessional. They're right.
A professional executes an order. Completes a list. Delivers a product.
I do something else. I document humanity that happens to occur at weddings.
I catch truth between poses. I find beauty in imperfection – because in perfection I mostly see lies.