Our Wedding: The Roasts, The Toasts, and the Truth About Love
Executive Coaching Through Life Transitions, and What Marriage Taught Me About Being Held
I didn’t expect our wedding to be a gift to our community.
But that’s what it became. And in giving that gift — in inviting others into something sacred and shared — I received more than I ever imagined.
A little over a week out, my heart is cracked wide open — not just from love, but from the sheer collective joy that hummed through the entire weekend. I felt it in my chest, across my solar plexus, lifting my heart. I still do.
One of the things that was most powerful about our wedding wasn’t just the ceremony, or the dance floor, or the vows (though all of those were beautiful). It was the people. The community. The energy they brought, the support they offered, and the reflections they gave us.
Going into the wedding, Loren and I were both feeling the pressure. The last six months of planning had been intense, and we were anxious, unrooted. I had moments of doubt. Was all of this worth it? Would it land the way we hoped?
We had joked many times that we should just elope (the Chinese-Jew in me was quite serious about it). I wondered if the stress and expense and logistics were worth it.
And then people flew in, and that doubt ebbed as the tide of love started to rise.
In so many ways, this entire journey—planning a wedding, moving through uncertainty, leaning on our people—was its own form of executive coaching through life transitions. It revealed the tension between wanting to control an outcome and surrendering to what the moment brings.
We kicked off our multi-day wedding with a cacao ceremony (I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t). Mahalo to our sisters at Legacy Cacao for gifting us our wedding cacao! The ceremony centered around the question: “What does love mean to you in this season of your life?”
We knew everyone was gathered to celebrate our love. But we also knew everyone would be reflecting on what love meant to them personally.
As Loren explained it, “We don’t talk about love enough in this world.”
So we invited our community to bring reflections of love into their own hearts.
We had a special part of our festivities called "Roasts and Toasts." As a couple, Loren and I are a little irreverent and a touch spiritual, so we wanted a space for both. We gave our people the option to roast us, toast us, or both. What we received was a flood of love, insight, and witnessing.
People shared their reactions to our breakup (Loren got a lot of roasts for that one!) and reunion, of the ways our community had supported each of us through hard times. And how we had supported them.
They shared their window into Loren’s healing journey. Into my experience with Long COVID. We were reminded of how hard we worked for this love.
Honestly, it felt like executive coaching through life transitions—but from a whole room full of beloveds. Their words gave us perspective, resilience, and even new language for understanding our own path.
I had sort of forgotten our windy path to marriage. But our people hadn’t. They remembered. And they reflected it all back with clarity and heart.
Loren’s sister spoke about his maturity process.
Kris reminded us that community isn’t just for witnessing weddings, but for supporting the marriage.
Her husband Fritz shared that love lives in the grace we give one another.
Susanna warned us against personal pride, and urged us to elevate it to pride in us as a unit.
The roasts and toasts were a turning point. From that moment on, I relaxed into a deep sense of knowing: we are held.
That knowing, by the way, is exactly what so many entrepreneurs long for. It’s something I talk about often when working with clients in executive coaching through life transitions. That feeling of being held, of not needing to carry it all alone.
The holding continued through the weekend. My bridal party, led by my dear friend Mada, held a gratitude and intention circle the morning of the wedding. They offered me gifts, blessings, and reflections just as we were about to get hair and makeup done. It was like holding a mirror up to my own friendships, right at a moment when everything was shifting.
I’ll share one of my coping mechanisms with you: whenever I felt overwhelmed during our planning process, I closed my eyes and imagined our friends and family on the dance floor, laughing and shaking their booties.
Oh, it wasn’t just a fantasy. It freaking happened.
Our grand entrance as a married couple was that manifestation come to life. At one point I turned to look at the tables and NO ONE was seated. Everyone was on their feet, dancing and cheering as we came in. If you haven’t danced with me yet, then you should know I’m a crazy dancer. I erupt in maniacal, cackling laughter and carry a mischievous energy of roping others into moving with chaos. Dancing as a community was utter heaven for me.
I have never received so much love in such a concentrated period. I’ve never had so many people tell me how beautiful I looked in one day. I’ve never been hugged and held by so many people. And weirdly, it didn’t feel awkward. It felt natural. My heart was open. I could receive. And the more I received, the more I could give back.
That cycle of giving and receiving was everywhere. My friend Susanna brought us matcha lattes the morning of our post-wedding beach BBQ and helped us with setup.
People just kept showing up. Again and again. It made me realize: they have always been there. It just takes the right container to see it.
The wedding showed me what life keeps humbling me with: you can’t do it alone. Not selling a company. Not illness. Not marriage. These highs and lows aren’t meant to be celebrated or weathered alone.
It’s all too big, too sacred, to hold by yourself.
In executive coaching through life transitions, I often ask clients what it would mean to be supported in the places they’ve felt most alone. This wedding was my own real-world answer.
I wrote this in a card to my husband:
"I think the Universe's greatest sense of humor was to gift me the love for you alongside a fiercely protective sense of independence.
I've never been one to bow my head before another. But you are worth me humbly bowing before our partnership. Because we are stronger and more magnificent together."
How many times does Spirit have to humble me before I realize I’m supported? How many scenarios have I assumed I have to do alone when there are 1,000 outstretched arms waiting in the wings?
I’m so glad we didn’t elope. I’m so glad we did this together. With them. With you.
And I’m grateful, too, for the ways this whole experience will continue to inform my work—especially when I’m holding others through executive coaching through life transitions. Because sometimes the truth is simple: you don’t need more strategies. You just need to be held.
Thank you for supporting me, by reading my work, sending your love, and sharing in the joys and mysteries of life as I navigate this wonky journey. Here’s to the next leg of it!