Dear ones, 

Just over seven years ago, I walked into my first day at my first job out of college and met the man who would someday be my husband: Ethan Laser. He was wearing a suit and an I-take-myself-seriously kind of look on his face, but mostly he had no idea what he was doing. Neither did I. In the weeks following, we talked about that until we stumbled into questions like “what makes a good life?” and “what did you learn from your first love?”, and the rest was history. What I mean by that, dear ones, is that Ethan had found a place in my heart that he was destined to stay. 

We remained friends for years, through many struggles, personal and professional alike. Eventually, through some combination of luck and intention, we found ourselves in love. 

It’s been a few years since then – that first declaration of love – and much has changed (though, perhaps of equal note, much has not). We are, as you are probably aware, engaged to be married. 

That’s why I’m writing you, our closest friends and family: 

First, to share with you that we would be tremendously blessed if you were able to attend our wedding next summer, on July 27, 2024. We’ve sent formal “save the dates” in the mail this week, so if you haven’t received yours already I’d recommend you check with your postman for the adorable vintage postcard he or she may be withholding on account of its aesthetic appeal. 

Second, because we know with everything we are that marriage will be among the hardest things we undertake in this short and beautiful life, and we want our marriage to be as much of a celebration as it is an invitation to buckle your seatbelts and get on board this thing with us. Which requires answers to a few questions, such as: what does marriage mean to us? What do we mean to each other? What are we afraid of? What are we proud of? And probably others that we haven’t thought of yet. 

Our hope is that by the time you arrive at our wedding, you will know enough about us as a couple to confidently pledge your support and protection of the beautiful, strange, wonderful, sure-to-be-messy union that is our marriage. 

So we’re going to send you a few emails between now and then – I hope that’s okay. If it’s not, you can reply to this and let me know, or otherwise feel free to ignore these messages and nod enthusiastically when I mention them in conversation – that might be better for the both of us. 

Either way, we are so grateful for you. For those of you who don’t yet know me, if you have made it to this list, you should know you are among a small and treasured group of people who have shaped Ethan into the man he is today. Thank you. I hope that, in the coming year, you come to believe me to be someone worthy of your Ethan. 

For those of you who know me well, I hope these messages also help you come to better know Ethan, while sharing the substance of our relationship. 

Which, I suppose, is the last thing for you all to know – our dirty secret: these are really just for us. As we think, talk, and pray about the journey ahead, sharing with you is also simply a reason to write down our thoughts on life, love, and marriage as we see them today – to drop an anchor in this moment in time so that someday we might return to this season and trace our way back to wherever we find ourselves. 

Thank you for being part of this journey. Thank you for helping us get here. 

More soon, 

Kylah (& Ethan)