“I feel like you’re trying to marry me,” I (Kate) said.
“Oh, I would marry you tomorrow,” Alicia replied. “Just ask me when you’re ready because I know.”
It was our second week of dating. I had met Alicia through work. I was a reporter, covering a panel on hate crimes, and Alicia was a hate crime specialist for the State’s Attorney’s Office, helping survivors navigate the courts. I spotted her before the panel began. I remember exactly where I was standing when I looked up, camera in hand, and saw her at the table, arranging her papers for the presentation. I remember wanting to call my best friend and tell her I finally figured out that I did have a type after all. I was supposed to interview her months later, but I reassigned the job, and here we were.
Truthfully, we both knew and knew right away.
It would be several more months before I asked her to marry me, a decision that allowed her immediate family to be present. I made her a video and we set up 500 candles in her parents’ backyard facing the mountains. Her sister-in-law led her out to the dark patio, and her dad handed her a bouquet of flowers. He pressed play on the video.
I came out and told her it was the easiest thing I had ever done, and that was true.
We married in New Hampshire, near her grandmother’s farmhouse, surrounded by close family and friends. Our dog, Snax, ate flies throughout the festivities.
We live in Boston now and celebrated one year with this anniversary shoot in Chicago where we met. It was extra special because photographers Ed & Aileen are my grade school friends.