ceremony and reception

Whether you’re going traditional or modern, the marriage ceremony and reception are the moments we’ve all been waiting for. Explore venue, decor, and DJ options for an unforgettable experience.

Compulsions
Millions of Pakistanis live in the United States, having migrated from Pakistan in search of a better life. By “better life,” most people usually mean financial comfort, and in that sense many do succeed. They earn money and achieve stability. However, along with these gains come countless struggles, emotional hardships, and painful sacrifices that often remain unseen.
By Sudais Zakwan3 days ago in Marriage
How to Plan a Wedding Without Stress
Planning a wedding is often described as one of life’s happiest experiences—but it can also become overwhelming if not handled thoughtfully.
By Stories Today6 days ago in Marriage
Marriage is Going Extinct
Marriage once stood as a nearly universal life milestone — the expected transition from youth to adulthood, family, and social stability. But today, millions of young adults are rethinking if marriage even belongs in their future. While it’s dramatic to call marriage *extinct*, the trend lines suggest we are living through a historic transformation in how this generation views traditional commitment — one with cultural, economic, and demographic implications.
By Anthony Bahamonde9 days ago in Marriage
Why Wedding Venues Essex Continue to Win the Hearts of Modern Couples
There’s usually a quiet pause after a proposal. The excitement is there, of course, but soon it’s followed by practical questions. One of the first is often simple enough: where do we get married?
By Andrew Mile10 days ago in Marriage
Essex Wedding Venues 2026: Where Modern Love Meets Timeless Settings
Planning a wedding is often described as a journey, and for couples looking ahead, Essex wedding venues 2026 are already shaping that journey in thoughtful and exciting ways. Essex has long been a favourite for weddings, but what’s changing now is how venues are responding to modern expectations while keeping the romance firmly intact.
By Andrew Mile22 days ago in Marriage
A Homily. Top Story - January 2026.
I'm officiating another wedding in September. My dear friend, Alex, is marrying her sweet love, Camille, and I get to give the speech that binds them together in the eyes of the law. I thought I might play with a few ideas here to help me brainstorm and develop the message. I'll skip the boring standard introduction stuff; similarly, I won't include the wrap-up with their commitments and whatnot. Just the goods.
By kp26 days ago in Marriage
The Hum of Disconnect
Arthur clicked the remote, the television screen going black with a soft sigh. It was ten-oh-seven. Every night, ten-oh-seven. Eleanor would be in the bedroom, reading. Or pretending to. He stood there, the dead screen reflecting his own tired face, a blank slate under the dim living room lamp. A small hum from the refrigerator was the loudest thing in the house. It was a good hum, steady, predictable. He liked predictable.
By HAADI30 days ago in Marriage
The Unsent Confession
Mark was digging through the junk drawer in the kitchen. Not really digging, more like excavating. Years of forgotten keys, dried-up pens, crumpled receipts from hardware stores and takeaways, a single dice from some board game they hadn't played in a decade. Dust motes danced in the slivers of afternoon light cutting through the window above the sink, illuminating the detritus of their shared life. He was supposed to be looking for that tiny screwdriver Sarah needed for her reading glasses, but mostly, he was just procrastinating, enjoying the quiet hum of the fridge and the faint, almost nostalgic, smell of burnt toast from breakfast.
By HAADIabout a month ago in Marriage
The Weight of Unsaid Words
Arthur was cleaning out the junk drawer. Not the designated junk drawer everyone has, but *Sarah's* junk drawer, the one in her old writing desk that she swore she’d get to someday. His hand, thick and calloused from years of wrenching on engines, moved slowly, sifting through ancient utility bills, dried-up pens, a single mismatched earring. Dust motes danced in the sliver of sunlight slicing through the grime on the window. He was looking for a screwdriver, really, the one he swore she’d borrowed and never returned, but then his fingers brushed against something crisp, folded precisely in half, tucked under a stack of brittle yellowed receipts.
By HAADIabout a month ago in Marriage
The Glint of Dust and Memory
Margo’s hands moved over the counter, muscle memory making the coffee. Two scoops for her, three for Arthur, just like always. The house was quiet, that morning quiet that had settled into their lives like a fine layer of dust on everything. Not heavy, not oppressive, but present. She could feel it in the air, the way the light from the kitchen window caught the motes dancing in the stillness. Another Tuesday. Another sunrise that promised nothing new, just another day to navigate.
By HAADIabout a month ago in Marriage
The Weight of Glass
The submersible, *Ares*, groaned, a familiar, metallic complaint against the crushing blackness outside. Leo watched the sonar display, a faint green heartbeat, his fingers tight on the stick. Beside him, Clara adjusted her headset, her profile etched by the console's glow, pale and sharp. Two hundred meters down. The Mariana Trench was less a destination and more a tomb, but for them, for a decade now, it had been a calling. Their calling, once. Now it just felt like another job, another expensive, silent trip into the dark, trying to find something whole in the shattered parts of the world.
By HAADIabout a month ago in Marriage
Whispers in an Ancient Library
Elara traced the spine of a book, her finger leaving a pale line in the thick dust. Her arthritis hummed a low complaint in her knuckles, a familiar ache. Another Tuesday afternoon in the stacks. Thomas, her husband of forty-two years, was a shadow at the far end of the aisle, lost in the brittle pages of some medieval tome. The air in the old city library was always the same: dust motes suspended in the weak light from the tall, arched windows, the faint, comforting scent of aging paper and something else, something metallic and cold, like forgotten iron. She’d come here every Tuesday and Thursday since she retired, not because she loved the musty quiet, but because he was here. He always was.
By HAADIabout a month ago in Marriage