by Lauretta Wright
The one-syllable, four-letter word: Love.
Just one small word, yet it carries so much. I see it every day in what I do, in all its shapes and forms. It’s in the tender, hopeful eyes of parents at a naming ceremony, in the growing connection of a commitment ceremony, in the glowing joy of a wedding, in the warm, seasoned love of a marriage vow renewal, and even in the deep, lasting love that rises during a celebration of life. Each occasion carries its own version of love, and witnessing it in all its guises is one of the greatest gifts of my vocation.
My path to celebrancy was a gentle one. Like many celebrants, I began part-time, as a way to slowly step away from the formal full-time workforce rather than leave it all at once. I spent more than twenty years working in higher education, and while that chapter was deeply rewarding, I felt drawn toward something more personal, more intimate, and more connected to life’s most meaningful moments.
I qualified as a celebrant in March 2020, right as COVID-19 restrictions were changing the way people could gather. I remember thinking how strange it felt to launch Wright Celebrations at a time when people couldn’t meet face-to-face! And yet, love didn’t pause. It adapted. Ceremonies became smaller, quieter, and more intentional, and I quickly learned that connection doesn’t depend on numbers or scale.
They say every love story is unique, and I am endlessly humbled to see that truth play out. I’ve stood beside couples who fell in love as teenagers, lived separate lives for fifty years, and then found their way back to one another. I’ve been part of intimate elopements with just the couple present, a photographer as one witness, my husband as the other. I’ve also helped create unforgettable surprises, where guests arrive for a milestone birthday and discover they were actually attending a wedding.
And often, love arrives with four legs. Horses, dogs (sometimes both!) patiently waiting nearby. I’m still hoping for a feline or a feathered friend to make an appearance one day, but these little real-life moments remind me that love doesn’t need to look a certain way to be beautiful. Of course, not everything always goes exactly as planned when a couple marries. Rings have been dropped (yes, really), and there has been the occasional very late bride making her grand entrance.
Being Canadian-born, my accent sometimes places the emphasis on a different syllable, and despite my best efforts (and even after meeting the namesake beforehand many times), the odd-sounding vowel or consonant has slipped out on the day, no way, eh? My apologies to Craig, Aaron, Jacinta (and Jacinda), Tarniah, Kirri and Kyah, and to the
couples whom I mentioned during the ceremonies that had travelled from Cairns or Melbourne – then again, Craig was Scottish, so he may not have noticed my use of a short “e”. And now and then, even after everyone has carefully read through the paperwork more than thrice, a witness’s middle name is missed, or a birth state is incorrect, meaning a new official marriage certificate must be ordered. It’s all a reminder that ceremonies are real, human moments … and that sometimes, stuff doesn’t go Wright.
Love isn’t always about joy, either. On a few occasions, I’ve sat with one half of a couple I have married after their spouse has passed away. There’s a deep, quiet sadness in those moments, one that feels different from the grief family or friends may express, because I was part of such an intimate beginning of their life together, and now their wedded life is gone. It’s a solemn reminder that love carries many layers, all of them sacred.
At the heart of it all, though, of every love story everywhere, be it a celebration of life or a marriage ceremony, is connection. Family, friends, shared history, support, tears, laughter, and hope all play a part. Beyond rings or vows, other rituals and rites, the real beauty lies in honouring the past, celebrating the present, and stepping into the future together.
Every proposal, every vow, every commitment I witness carries more than a decision to marry; it’s a promise to keep choosing each other. I never take lightly the trust couples place in me when they invite me into these moments. It’s a privilege that never grows ordinary.
What I love most about my work is helping couples tell their story in a way that feels truly theirs. I weave together their journey: that first meeting, the shared adventures, the quiet everyday love, into a ceremony that reflects who they are. Sometimes we laugh over awkward first dates, sometimes we cry together, often both. There’s no strict template, no set script, just what feels right for each couple.
Every ceremony reminds me how deeply rewarding this work is, how fully it keeps me present, and how much joy it brings to witness love at its most beautiful. Being a celebrant isn’t just my work … it’s my joy.