Dear 2025…
Dear 2025,
I didn’t meet you with naïve hope. I met you already mid-stride, hands full, knowing what it takes to keep something alive year after year. And still, you stretched me.
You were the year Apollo Fields truly expanded. What had lived as an idea finally became a place—a venue where people gather, celebrate, and mark their lives together. We launched that side of the business with intention and courage, while continuing the work we’ve done for nearly a decade: photographing weddings, often right here, telling stories of commitment while building our own. That continuity matters to me more than I realized.
You were relentless in your pace. Miles stacked on miles, seasons spent moving back and forth over the George Washington Bridge, long days that blurred into one another. The cost of everything rose, the margin for error shrank, and rest felt elusive. We worked constantly—212 jobs worth of proof that the demand was there—even when calm never quite arrived.
And yet, woven through all of that effort was something steadier.
The couples who trusted us—again and again—with their biggest moments. Who chose our space, our eyes, our presence on days they’ll remember forever. Their faith in us anchored this year. It reminded me that what we do matters not because it’s busy, but because it’s meaningful. Because people invite us into rooms filled with emotion, intention, and love, and believe we’ll hold it with care.
This was also the year our village became unmistakable. The people who showed up to help run events, prep spaces, carry gear, solve problems, offer encouragement, and step in when things felt heavy. A team built not just on skill, but on trust and shared purpose. We didn’t do this alone—even when it felt lonely at times—and that truth deserves to be said out loud.
2025 asked a lot of my partnership. This year required deeper conversations, sharper honesty, and patience when it would have been easier to retreat. It wasn’t always graceful. But it was real, and it strengthened the foundation beneath everything else we’re building. You also carried a quieter weight—things that had to be absorbed while life kept moving. While clients arrived, schedules filled, and two small boys needed steadiness and presence. I learned how much can be held at once, and how strength sometimes looks like continuing gently.
Still—you gave us abundance. Work. Momentum. A business built side by side. A growing community around Apollo Fields. A life that is full, even when it isn’t light.
And to my children—my why. Thank you for choosing us, for landing in this family with such openness and grace. You are my muse, my inspiration, and so often my greatest teachers. You take everything in stride, with a resilience and lightness that continually brings me back to what matters. You are the reason I keep building, keep believing, keep showing up. My life’s blood, my constant reminder that love is both the work and the reward.
So this is my love letter to you, 2025. Not because you were easy, but because you were formative. You clarified what matters, revealed the depth of our support, and reminded me why we do this work in the first place.
I’m stepping forward changed—worn in places, steadier in others, deeply grateful for the people who trusted us, stood with us, and helped make this year what it was.
Thank you for shaping us.
We’ll carry what we learned.
– Heather
