how it all started.

I didn’t grow up dreaming of officiating weddings.

In fact, when my niece’s officiant backed out and I offered to step in (wine may have been involved in that particular decision), I was pretty sure I was setting myself up to publicly combust.

See, I’d spent the last 35 years convinced that I had stage fright (long story — and not a great one). But I got ordained anyway, because I would do anything in the world for her.

So I wrote the ceremony. Then I stood in front of 130 people to deliver it…and felt completely at home.

I felt present. A little witty. Fully confident. Shockingly calm.

And more than anything, I felt proud to be the one standing up there with them. I truly loved every second of it.

That particular year was full of unexpected life changes for me, and I felt a little unsure about my path. But standing there with them, something clicked.

Six months later, friends asked me to officiate their backyard wedding.

I said yes, and told myself this would be the real test — just to make sure the first time wasn’t a fluke fueled by emotion.

It wasn’t. It was alignment.

People laughed. People cried. People said I was a natural and asked me how long I had been doing this.

And again, I loved every second of it.

I didn’t realize it at the time, but what I loved most wasn’t just leading the ceremony — it was how it made people feel.

Here’s what makes this all feel a little less random.

A few years earlier, I had found my birth mom (another long story — but a good one) and I got to meet my biological grandmother.

Enter the fun plot twist: Grandma Arlene started officiating weddings later in life and continued into her 80s. If a couple asked her to dress goth, she showed up in a long black wig and owned it.

So officiating weddings — and showing up fully for people — is literally in my blood.

Turns out, the accidental officiant wasn’t so accidental after all.