I'm not just making it up as I go along, you know…

So, what does an independent wedding celebrant actually do? Quite a lot, as it happens...

I am aware of what some people think independent celebrants do for a living. Rock up to a wedding day, say a few words about how lovely it is to be in love, and wing the rest. Job done in 20 minutes.

And if you've been to a traditional church wedding or a registrar-led ceremony, I can see why you might think this. But I promise you, from my point of view, there's rather more to it than meets the eye....

By the time I stand in front of a couple on their wedding day, I've usually spent hours getting to know them, listening to their stories, and working out what makes them tick. Then come the days spent writing their ceremony, rewriting it, polishing it and rehearsing it until it sounds just right.

There's planning. There's preparation. There's a fair amount of thinking. And there has to be decent coffee. Possibly an oaty biscuit if I'm really pushing the boat out.

Because the trick to making a ceremony feel natural, personal and as though it could only ever belong to the two people standing in front of me, is that it takes a surprising amount of work to make it look that way.

So, what do I actually do? Well, let me tell you.

First, I get to know you. Properly.

Before I can tell your story, I need to get to know the people who are living it.

That starts with conversations, a questionnaire and a lot of time spent discovering what makes you, well, you. How did you meet? Who made the first move? What did you think of each other at first? What do you love about one another? What drives you absolutely round the bend? What would your friends say about you as a couple? And what are the stories that still make you laugh, even though you've told them a ridiculous amount of times?

The questionnaire helps get things moving, but it's the conversations that bring everything to life. I'm naturally curious, and I'm quite good at getting people to open up. It’s also handy that I listen a lot more than I speak. Sometimes you start by telling me one story and end up remembering something else entirely - a tiny detail that turns out to be much more revealing. And, as I've mentioned in previous blogs, there'll usually be plenty of laughter along the way.

But fear not. I don't expect you to arrive with a beautifully packaged love story and all the answers ready. Helping you uncover those stories is part of my job. And if talking about feelings doesn't come naturally to you, that's absolutely fine, too. You don't have to deliver a TED Talk about your relationship - we'll work it out together.

I listen for the little things.

There's a difference between collecting stories and really listening to them. I'm interested in the things that make your relationship yours: the habits, the in-jokes, the kindnesses, the daft things you do for one another, the moments that changed everything and the details that probably wouldn't mean much to anyone else. Because those little details are often what make a ceremony feel personal. (And, as I frequently allude to, the little things really are the big things.)

And I want you two to recognise yourselves in the words, too. Not some polished, idealised version of yourselves who apparently never leave their pants on the floor or bicker about what to have for dinner. The real people - the ones who have built a life together, with all its funny, messy, brilliant and annoying bits. I'm also thinking about the people in the room: how can the ceremony help them feel part of this moment? How can we make it meaningful for you without leaving your guests feeling as though they've accidentally wandered into a very private conversation?

Getting that balance right really matters to me. It's about telling your story in a way that feels personal to you while giving the people you've invited a chance to understand and celebrate what makes your relationship special.

Then I write. And write. And write some more.

Once I've got to know you, I start turning all those conversations, stories and little details into a ceremony. I'm looking for the thread that brings everything together: what matters to you, what makes your relationship distinctive and how to tell your story in a way that feels completely natural and unscripted when spoken aloud.

There's a fair amount of writing, editing, rearranging and occasionally having a spell of writer’s block that only a good walk and perhaps a glass of wine will resolve. I'm thinking about rhythm, timing, where a laugh might come, where a pause might be needed and how to move between the funny bits and the more emotional ones. And I really want the words to sound like they belong to you; that is hugely important to me.

Some couples even trust me enough to choose my unseen ceremony option. That means they don't read their ceremony before the wedding day. They trust me to take everything they've shared with me and create something that feels right. That's a rather lovely thing to be trusted with and a responsibility I take very seriously. (And, yes, it can cause me a few sleepless nights!)

Whichever type of ceremony you choose, my aim is to create something so true to you that, when you hear it, you recognise yourselves completely in the words.

I help you work out what your ceremony could look like.

You don't need to arrive knowing exactly what you want your ceremony to include. Perhaps you have a clear idea already. Perhaps you've never thought much beyond the dress, the venue and whether Auntie Sue can be trusted near the champagne. Either way, we can explore the possibilities together.

There might be personal vows, readings, music, symbolic rituals, children (or fur-children) taking part, a way to remember someone who can't be there, or something completely unexpected that makes perfect sense for the two of you. Or perhaps you don't want any of those things; perhaps all you want is a beautifully written story, delivered from the heart. That's right up my street.

I should add that I'm a big fan of not including traditions just because that's what people have always done. (Do have a look at Why Your Ceremony Doesn't Have To Follow Tradition...) But if certain traditions mean something to you, that's equally fine by me. Just don't feel pressured to squeeze in every lovely idea you've seen on Pinterest, or everything your mum, dad or granny expects you to do. It really is about finding what feels right for you.

And if you fancy something a little different, I'm usually more than happy to help with that. Some of the most memorable moments happen when couples give themselves permission to do things exactly their own way.

And what do I actually do on the wedding day?

This is where all the planning, writing, conversations and oaty biscuits finally come together.

I usually arrive about 45 minutes before the ceremony. Enough time to get organised, check everything is ready and liaise with the relevant people, but not so early that I've been standing around for hours and slowly losing my ‘fizz’. (And fizz is important. I like to arrive with plenty of energy for the job ahead.)

Depending on the setup and what we decide is needed, I might bring my own sound equipment or quickly familiarise myself with someone else's. I'll definitely liaise with whoever is looking after the music, so we know what's happening and when - I don't want you to be walking down the aisle to “Love Will Tear Us Apart” or “50 Ways to Leave Your Lover” by mistake... that would be quite enough excitement for one day.

I'll check in with the people involved, including your most important friends and family, and make sure anyone with a role has a general idea of what's happening. Nothing too formal; it's a wedding, not a military operation. Just enough gentle coordination to help things flow. I'll also have a chat with your suppliers, whether that's your venue host, photographer or videographer. It's always lovely to work with other professionals who want to help make your day special.

And then I'll find you two. There's usually a hug, a few supportive words and a little moment together before everything begins. You might be buzzing with excitement, feeling a bit wobbly or wondering how on earth the day has arrived so quickly. Whatever you're feeling is absolutely fine, I'm not there to add to your nerves – I'm there to help you feel ready, remind you that you've got this and make sure you know I'm right there with you.

Once the ceremony starts, my job is about much more than reading the words I've written - I'm reading the room, watching faces, listening to the laughter. Noticing when a moment needs a little space, when a joke will land beautifully or when it's time to slow down and let something emotional settle. Couples often tell me how much they value that balance - the ability to make people laugh and cry, sometimes within the space of a few minutes, while keeping everything feeling totally natural.

Sometimes a little playfulness is exactly right. Sometimes kindness and sensitivity matter more than anything else. Sometimes somebody needs a reassuring smile. And sometimes the best thing to do is simply let a moment happen without trying to fill it with words.

I don't want to deliver a script on autopilot, I want to be present with the people in front of me and respond to what's happening. That's a big part of the job, and one of the bits I love most.

Real life has a habit of joining in.

You can plan the words, the music, the rings and the confetti. You can rehearse, make lists and check everything twice. And then a dog decides to howl, or a baby cries. Someone gets unexpectedly emotional, and the weather does something spectacularly unhelpful. Or two best men start drinking the champagne before the toast. (Yes, that last one really happened.)

I've conducted ceremonies during torrential rain, waited quietly while someone gathered themselves to finish their vows, and watched a dog cheerfully ignore its carefully assigned role. I've helped arrange surprise ring bearers and done my fair share of thinking on my feet. You can read about some of those moments in my blog, 7 Real Wedding Ceremony Moments I'll Never Forget.

They're funny stories, but they also say something important about the job. A ceremony is a live event, full of real people and real emotions - it isn't a television programme where we can shout cut and start again. My job is to stay calm, read what's happening and adapt. Sometimes that means a quick bit of ad-libbing, and sometimes it means giving someone time. And sometimes it means letting the unexpected become one of the best bits of the day.

I take what I do seriously - but I don't think everything has to be serious all the time.

I want your guests to enjoy it, too.

While your ceremony is first and foremost about you two, I also want the people you've invited to feel part of it. They've made the effort to be there because they care about you: they want to celebrate with you, hear your story and share the moment when you make your promises.

And no, I don't think the ceremony should simply be the bit everyone politely sits through before the drinks start. (After one wedding, a couple told me how many lovely comments they'd received from their guests, including one person who'd apparently always considered ceremonies "the boring part". I'll take that as a win.)

I love a ceremony where people laugh, where a reading really lands, where guests get involved in a surprise, where a cheeky ad-lib during the vows makes everyone laugh out loud or where the sight of a groom crying leaves half the room reaching for tissues. Not because every ceremony needs to be funny or emotional in equal measure, but because it should feel alive. It should give people something to connect with.

And when it's all over?

Once I've led you through your ceremony and you're ready to celebrate, I'm very happy to help with confetti, photographs or getting people from A to B if an extra pair of hands is useful. Then I quietly and discreetly slip away - because this is your day, not mine.

I've had the privilege of helping create and deliver a very special part of it, but the celebrations belong to you. You should be busy hugging your favourite people, laughing, crying happy tears and generally enjoying yourselves - not worrying about where your celebrant has got to.

Ideally, you'll remember how the ceremony made you feel, rather than noticing all the little things I was doing behind the scenes to help it happen.

One important practical detail.

The legal ceremony is the paperwork; the celebrant ceremony is the celebration.

In England and Wales, a celebrant-led wedding ceremony doesn’t, by itself, make you legally married, so you’ll need to take care of the legal formalities separately. But that leaves you free to create a ceremony that’s personal, meaningful, full of personality and entirely about the two of you. And that’s where I come in.

So, what does an independent wedding celebrant actually do?

I ask questions. I listen. I write, edit, plan, organise and think about the details. I help you work out what your ceremony could look like, support you through the nerves, liaise with the people involved and stand beside you on the day.

I tell your story, read the room, bring the laughter when it feels right and give the emotional moments room to breathe. I adapt when real life inevitably does its thing, and I try to make sure that everyone there feels part of something special.

But above all, I take the time to understand you, so your ceremony feels like it could only ever belong to the two of you.

So no, I'm not just making it up as I go along. Although, if I've done my job properly, you might never notice quite how much work went into it. 

If you're looking for a celebrant who'll take your story seriously without taking herself too seriously, I'd love to hear from you.