Why I Stopped Shooting Weddings

I photographed my last wedding at the end of Summer in 2019. The bride was a family friend and it was a gorgeous church wedding with a marquee reception at their home in the village just along from mine. I had been photographing weddings for almost ten years to the day across the UK and abroad and I knew this would be my last. I wasn’t sad about it. I couldn’t have asked for a lovelier wedding to close this chapter in my career. I began my journey as a wedding photographer capturing a friend saying “I do” and I ended it in the same way… there was nothing to be sad about.

In September 2009 I photographed one of my oldest friends, Chloe, tie the knot in Manchester Town Hall. I wasn’t a professional photographer, in fact I wasn’t really a “professional” anything, I was a bridesmaid! I liked taking pictures and I’d documented our recent trip to California together very enthusiastically with my entry level DSLR, so she felt comfortable in front of the camera with me and had asked me to capture her wedding day.

I’ll always be grateful to Chloe, for trusting me with one of the most important days of her life and opening the door to a whole new world for me. Fifteen years later she & her husband are still happily married with three amazing children and three crazy canines to keep them busy! They have some lovely wedding photographs to share with their family for generations to come. As much as I might cringe at my inexperience and think of all the ways I’d shoot things differently now, those photographs are of their time and they are precious.

Friends of friends were soon asking if I would photograph their big day too. I was full of self doubt and charging pennies, which probably helped! In 2010 I took the leap, built my first photography website and put myself out there as a wedding photographer. I said yes to every job I was offered and immersed myself in my craft. I invested in photography workshops and training. I took some terrible photographs, some pretty good photographs and a hell of a lot of mediocre ones! I practised and practised and practised until I got better. And I did get better.

During my ten years photographing weddings I was also working full-time for the veterans’ charity I co-founded with my father, so life was busy. My workload peaked in 2014 when I shot 28 weddings and the charity geared up for one of its biggest events; the 70th anniversary of the D-Day Landings.

At 29 years old, I was in a long distance relationship and darting back and forth to London as often as I could. I loved the adventure of also getting to visit new parts of the country or even hop on a plane to photograph weddings, but I did not stop. It was so much fun getting to know my couples and their families and it was humbling being invited to capture this important moment in their story, but there was no room for spontaneity in my life. If the sun came out and my friends planned a spare of the moment BBQ or a day at the beach, I invariably couldn’t make it. I didn’t acknowledge it at the time, but I was exhausting myself.

In 2015 I experienced what I think will always be the lowest moment in my photography career. I was asked to photograph what promised to be an extraordinary multi-cultural wedding for the most wonderful family on the outskirts of Bordeaux, France. The groom’s family were Hindu and the bride’s were Greek Orthodox, so this would be a four day celebration of the coming together of two people, their families and their religions.

I flew out to Bordeaux with my amazing friend and photography assistant, who was six months pregnant at the time, and arrived at the bride’s parents’ home which was also one of the most beautiful vineyards I’d ever seen. The location was on another level with its rows of neat vines on south-facing slopes, wildflower meadows and sumptuous views over the Garonne valley below. It was paradise.

Day one was a welcome dinner and mehndi party. It was a lovely informal evening with the bride and groom’s family and close friends welcomed to join in the prologue of what was to be an epic weekend ahead. There were traditional Hindu ceremonies, the most delicious Indian food and of course wine, plenty of wine!

Day two was the Hindu wedding ceremony. It started with a traditional Indian breakfast as guests arrived in all their colour and finery. Everyone looked incredible and I was in my element taking pictures of the hundreds of guests as they hugged and laughed and readied themselves for the ceremony ahead. Oh what a ceremony it was! The groom and his family gathered at the end of a dusty road lined with tall evergreen hedges, where he mounted his white horse and the party made their way towards the ceremony venue. The drums sounded and I felt like I was watching energy itself as this mass of noise and colour moved towards us beneath the high summer sun. The temperature was fast approaching 40 degrees and, being a pale redheaded sort of person, I’d normally be flagging and scouring the landscape for shade. Not today. It was too exciting and I wanted to capture every moment. As the two families collided and the dance-off commenced I was taking pictures frantically! I loved every moment and it was a joy to photograph.

Then came the ceremony. They warned me it would be quite long and it was, but it was never dull and each element was explained for its symbolism ensuring that everyone felt included at each stage of the process. There were games and rituals interspersed with moments of seriousness which reminded us all of the gravity and importance of the commitment the bride and groom were making to each other. Yes it was long and yes it was stiflingly hot, but it was perfect.

After the marriage ceremony, we took time to photograph the groom’s family. Many had travelled from India to France to celebrate and for them this wedding was a very important opportunity for family reunion. The formal family photographs were followed by an Indian banquet the such I had never seen before and feel I may never see again. I love my food. Eating is honestly one of my greatest pleasures and this vegetarian feast was absolutely incredible. With guests fully fuelled, the dancing began and the energy of the day climaxed with the groom and all his friends launching themselves fully clothed into the venue’s swimming pool for an essential and well-deserved cool down!

Day three was the Greek Orthodox wedding. In its tone this wedding was more familiar to me with bridal preparations at home and a Christian ceremony in the most gorgeous Chapel which had been filled with lilies for the occasion. The scent was wonderfully intoxicating on what was another hot day. This reception was held at the bride’s family home where guests enjoyed a drinks reception whilst we took some more portraits and group photographs against that fabulous vineyard backdrop.

Before the wedding breakfast was served, I was talking with the groom’s sister who had recently been married herself. She and her husband told me how their photographer had lost a portion of their photographs, which included their family formals. They were obviously so sad about this, but pleased to see their extended family again with another opportunity to capture everyone together. They asked me how I ensured this didn’t happen for my clients and I explained my backup systems and said really it’s just about having a robust process and being careful. I had never lost a single image for my clients and was confident I never would.

The evening went without a hiccup with course after course of fine food, entertaining speeches and wine flowing as you’d expect. It was clear everyone was having a wonderful time and those dared continued on the dance floor into the early hours.

Day four was a relaxed brunch which was as splendid a spread as each one before, but catered to a slightly more fatigued crowd who were digesting and reminiscing on all the amazing memories they had made together over the past three days. I took my pictures and we said our goodbyes to this sweet family who had looked after us so well as we captured this magical weekend for them.

At the height of summer I was editing a wedding a week and so it wasn’t until three weeks later that I came to dig deep into this one. I organised my files and edited each day chronologically. I was half way into day two when I realised something was wrong. All the family formals were in 50mm. That day I shot with two prime lenses and there were no 35mm family group photographs. I went back and checked my hard drive. I checked my second hard drive. I went through every memory card I had, but I had shot two weddings since and these had all been overwritten at least twice. I didn’t understand what had happened.

I remember phoning my Mum and rambling down the phone to her that I couldn’t figure out where these files were. The word “lost” was inconceivable at this point. I was alone at home, so she got in her car and came straight over to help. As soon as she arrived and I started explaining to her what the problem was, I had what I later learned was a full-blown panic attack. I couldn’t breathe. She scrambled to find a bag for me to breathe in and out of as I fell out of my back door into the garden and paced up and down, just trying to catch my breath.

We checked and double-checked, but the files were not there. I was desperately trying to think back to the wedding and recall the details… what had happened?! A memory came back to me. I remembered switching memory cards mid-speeches on day three and finding the new card was full of images. In that split second, eager not to miss anything and safe in the knowledge that I had backed every card up the night before, I deleted the contents of the card and kept shooting. It turns out that in that moment I deleted my clients’ family photographs. Now three weeks on, I was then able to piece together that somehow on day two that card full of images had likely been placed with the fresh cards rather than the spent ones. It was never backed up.

I got busy on google researching data recovery software and finally resolved to send my cards away to a company in the US who specialised in this very thing at a cost of thousands. I pinned all my hopes on their being able to find these files, but in the mean time I had to tell my bride. I felt so completely wretched in those first few days I could barely look at myself in the mirror, let alone admit what I had done to these lovely people who had placed their trust in me.

I knew it had to be a phone call. I had f**ked up, but I could at least be honest about my mistake and explain the measures I was taking to try and put it right. It was one of the hardest conversations I’ve had to have. My bride was understandably very worried, but she was calm and kind to me given the circumstances. I promised to keep her updated and I did, but the news soon came that the images could not be found. I had overwritten the cards too many times and those precious photographs were lost. I couldn’t do any more.

I delivered thousands of photographs from that wedding; capturing beautiful portraits, high energy documentary candids, thoughtful details and sweet moments of emotion, but I knew how much those group photographs meant to this family.

In that moment I didn’t care about my reputation. I cared about my clients and I was so sorry for any distress I had caused them or their families, when all I had wanted to do was bring them joy through my photographs. So I did the only things I knew I could do. I apologised profusely. I offered them discounts. I offered to photograph them again at a moment’s notice for any occasion in the future free of charge. Again they were so kind in a “these things happen” sort of way, but I don’t think they took me up on any of those offers. They didn’t solve their problem and I understand that.

Photographing weddings in the aftermath of this experience was inevitably different for me. The experience didn’t impact the quality of my service or the standard of my photography, but it did impact my mindset. I had invested hundreds in memory cards and overhauled my back up system so that it was virtually impossible for this to happen again, but I was still anxious. I felt I had failed my clients and I was terrified of doing it again. Each year following that Summer I photographed fewer and fewer weddings. It wasn’t deliberate or conscious, I simply put less energy into finding my ideal wedding clients. I reprioritised and focused on other projects.

This is the first time I have spoken about this outside of close friends and family. I continued to photograph weddings for four more years and I was obviously afraid of the impact it would have on my reputation. Even once I had photographed my last wedding in 2019, I didn’t tell the story because a part of me still carried a lot of shame for the mistake I made. Perhaps it’s simply age or something to do with having children of my own, but I’m learning to give myself more grace. I made a mistake, I am human. I didn’t shy away from it, I apologised and did everything I could to put it right. I can’t ask any more of myself.

I have learned to recognise that I am a person to whom the feeling of guilt comes easily. I had become a very accomplished wedding photographer and built a successful business around doing just that, but in the end having sole responsibility for recording such an important day in somebody’s life came with too much risk for me. That moment when I realised my mistake was a turning point, after which my passion for shooting weddings diminished. The experience didn’t stop me from doing what I loved, but it stopped me from loving what I did.

Rather than give up altogether I have decided to do something else, because I’m a good photographer and there is a big wide world outside of weddings just waiting to be captured. Concentrating on shooting exclusively on film has re-energised me and this year in particular I find myself falling back in love with the practise of photography. With two little girls of my own now I’m in a different season of life. Where photographing weddings used to feel so right to me during those years, now the idea of giving fellow mothers the gift of beautiful family portraits with their children fills me with excitement!

Almost a decade on, I’d like to say one last time how sorry I am to Antonia & Nickyl. You were the most wonderful clients and your families welcomed us with open arms, kept us fed and watered and invited us into the celebration as friends rather than service providers. I’ll always be grateful for your kindness and understanding during that difficult time.