Det är hit man kommer, när man kommer hem

Once in a while, it’s as if all the stars align and everything suddenly makes sense.

When my friends Susanne and Fredrik asked me if I wanted to come and shoot their wedding in Northern Sweden, I couldn’t believe it. They are both two talented wedding photographers themselves, and when they asked me, I had shot—what—five weddings?

I couldn’t allow myself to cheer until the contract was signed. Not even then—I had many awful scenarios in my mind, where I got food poisoned or hit by a truck just before the journey.

But I never got sick. I never got hit by a truck.

The months passed and suddenly it was time for me to go to Stansted, to meet up the toastmasters who also live in London. From there on, it was pure… magic.

It’s hard to express what this weekend meant for me. It wasn’t just the wedding itself; it was the lovely people I got to meet, the breathtaking environments, the constant feeling of being welcomed.

Not to talk about how I got to experience Sweden at its very best. The midnight sun, which I’ve been raving about since I put it on my bucket list at age fourteen. Eating smoked reindeer heart with a jackknife. The ”famous grouse”, which appeared at the hotel the same day we arrived, and then decided to follow the wedding couple for the whole weekend. Anywhere.

The night before we took the boat back, it was 3AM and I was heading back to the hotel from a sun that never set. Back from the people having reindeer kebabs and a sing-along, from the people running between the sauna and the water…

I took a long moment for myself.

This isn’t too good to be true anymore. It’s true, and it’s what I’ve been fighting for in the last few years.

It’s why it’s worth it, why I do it, and it’s why I will never stop.

To everyone present this weekend, and to everyone supporting me on this journey:

My deepest, deepest, thank you.