A Personal Story That Shaped Me and Why I Do What I Do
It Started With Cream Puffs
The story starts in Kansas City with a wedding planning book.
My parents had been dating for nine months when they started talking about getting married. Not because there was pressure. Not because there was a timeline. They just kind of knew they were going to be together.
They still cannot really explain how they knew. They just did.
So my mom bought a book called The Working Woman’s Wedding Planner. They were both working full time jobs, and she thought it might help. She started reading it and kept rolling her eyes. Eventually she handed it to my dad and said, “If we have a wedding, you have to do half of this stuff.”
My dad flipped through it. When he reached the worksheet about calculating how many cream puffs you needed to order for your guests, he looked at her and said, “I don’t want to do any of this.”
My mom said, “Me either.”
That might be the most honest beginning of a marriage I have ever heard.
They were not “anti wedding”. They were not trying to prove anything. They just did not want to calculate cream puffs.
Choosing Marriage Over a Wedding
My grandpa had already told them that when they decided to get married, he would give them a chunk of money. They could spend it on a wedding, or they could use it to start their life.
So instead of worksheets and seating charts, my mom suggested they take the money to Vegas and get married. Quickly. And mostly use it to start their life together.
Their Maid of Honor and Best Man were going to be in Las Vegas that same weekend. They did not want to get married somewhere they did not know anyone. Vegas made sense.
My mom called her dad to let him know they were taking a long weekend. He was also her business partner, so the call was practical.
He paused and asked, “Are you going to get married while you are out there?”
She said, “Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answer to.”
That is how everyone found out.
It was supposed to be an elopement. Just the two of them and their closest friends.
But as my mom says now, “It was a small wedding that had started as an elopement. Sometimes things go wrong.”
Flights were booked. Family showed up. My grandma was a little upset at first. My grandpa could read my mom too well. But it was never a fight.
They were married at the Chapel of the West (now known as Little Church of the West).
My mom wore a $99 off the rack dress she found days before. They bought flowers from Safeway and made their own bouquets while drinking in the hotel room. My dad’s dad joked that if he was doing well at the poker table, he might skip the ceremony and just give them half of his winnings. He showed up.
Their professional photographer managed to cut off my dad’s head in multiple images. My mom’s best friend ended up taking most of the photos that actually matter, while her camera battery was dying the whole time.
After the ceremony, they climbed into the Best Man’s car with “Just Married” written on it. When asked where they wanted to celebrate, my mom said she wanted a chocolate milkshake.
So they drove through McDonald’s on the Las Vegas strip before heading back to their hotel room reception.
They did not do it because it was strategic.
They did it because they wanted to be married.
And because they did not want to calculate cream puffs.
And that decision shaped me more than I understood at the time.
What It Taught Me About Marriage
They did not spend that money on a single day.
They used it to buy their first house.
Eventually, they started flipping houses. They built something together. They worked hard. They laughed a lot. They created a life that was theirs.
My mom had been a wedding singer in college before she got married. She had stood in the background of enough large wedding days to see what can happen when the event becomes bigger than the commitment. She saw stress. She saw pressure. She saw tension.
She did not want a production.
She wanted a marriage.
Watching them taught me something I could not put into words as a kid, but now I understand it clearly.
The success of a relationship is not about how long you have dated.
It is not about how big the celebration is.
It is not about how much you spend.
It is about intention.
About choosing each other again and again.
My parents were and still are deeply in tune with each other. Growing up, it was almost annoying how aligned they were. If I asked one parent for something and did not like the answer, going to the other rarely helped. I usually got the exact same response without them even talking to each other first.
As a kid, that was frustrating.
As an adult, I see how rare that is.
Their marriage has always felt steady. Not perfect, because perfect is not real. They disagree sometimes, but it does not linger. Most of the time it is a quick miscommunication that they fix just as quickly. They understand how the other one thinks and how they got there. They even play a game where they try to guess what the other is thinking just to prove how connected they are.
Now I get to participate in that game because I know them well enough to guess too.
That consistency shaped me.
Not in a wedding fantasy way.
In a partnership way.
Returning to Vegas Every Ten Years
They have returned to Vegas every ten years on their anniversary.
Their original wedding and their twenty year anniversary were at the Chapel of the West, even after the building had been physically moved. Their ten and thirty year renewals involved Elvis at another chapel.
The details change.
The decision does not.
I was not allowed to attend or watch the videos for years because they were a little drunk in them. The first year I was old enough to go, I had a wedding booked and could not make it. The next one is already on my calendar. I will not miss it.
It has never been about what they wear or the rings or the building.
It is about showing up.
Choosing each other again.
Marking the milestone.
Why I Believe in Elopements
I believe in elopements because I grew up watching what intention can build.
Not because it is trendy.
Not because it is “anti wedding”.
Not because someone told me to.
Starting small does not mean thinking small.
Investing in your future can matter more than funding a production.
The best love stories rarely follow a perfect script.
When couples tell me they are considering a Colorado elopement or an intimate wedding instead of a large traditional day, I do not just understand it professionally.
I understand it personally.
I know what it looks like to choose marriage over performance and what it looks like to build a life instead of a party.
And I know that not everyone feels fully supported when they make that choice.
If you do not feel fully supported, I understand why that hurts. I also understand why you are choosing something intentional anyway. You are allowed to build your life in a way that reflects who you are. And if you need someone in your corner while you do that, I will be there. Not just to document it, but to support you and cheer you on as you begin.
How This Shapes My Work as a Colorado Elopement Photographer
When I help couples plan an elopement in Colorado, I am not trying to convince them of anything. I am helping them get clear.
Clear on
- why they are choosing this.
- who they want present.
- what kind of experience they want to remember thirty years from now.
- how they want to begin.
Because long after the timeline is over and the photos are delivered, what stays is the life you build.
My parents started with certainty. They built a home, a businesses. They built a family of three girls who grew up hearing this story at the dinner table.
That is what I think about when I guide couples now.
And yes, I promise I will not cut off the top of anyone’s head in your photos.
But more importantly, I will document your day with care. The big moments and the small ones. The milkshake runs and the quiet vows. The parts that will matter long after the timeline ends.
If you are planning a Colorado elopement and want it to feel intentional, steady, and rooted in who you are, I would love to help you build that.
Contact me and we’ll start shaping a day that feels like the right beginning.
