loved.
Some love stories are loud and fast, marked by fireworks, youthful impulsivity, and whirlwind romance. But some- like my sister’s-are steady, soulful, and rich with the quiet wisdom that only time can bring.
This year, at the age of 58, my sister is getting married. And while every wedding is meaningful, hers is something altogether different. It’s not just a celebration of love, it’s a celebration of courage, identity, and hard-earned joy. It’s a moment that’s been decades in the making.
My sister is a lesbian, and for much of her life, she carried that truth quietly. Like so many in her generation, she navigated a world that wasn’t always ready- or willing- to embrace who she was. And though she’s always been herself- bold, compassionate, a natural leader- she didn’t always live in a world that let her be seen clearly. For so much of her life, love had to look quieter, safer, or smaller than it really was. And so she did what many do: she built a full life, pursued a meaningful career, nurtured deep friendships, gave everything she had to the people she loved, and built a home filled with love and laughter… but not always the kind of love that saw her, fully.
As her sibling, I can say with full honesty- I’ve never seen her this happy. There’s a lightness in her, a settled kind of joy that only comes when your soul exhales after years of holding its breath. And it’s not just the love she’s found- it’s that she gets to live that love out loud, in front of the people who matter most. To see her now- choosing to stand in her truth, not just quietly but in front of friends, family, and the world- is profoundly moving. It is not just a wedding. It’s a reclamation. A moment to say: “This is who I am. And I deserve every ounce of joy this life has to offer.” Her wedding isn’t about fanfare. It’s about truth. It’s about walking into this chapter with open arms and unapologetic joy. There’s a gravity to love at this stage in life. A sacredness to choosing someone when you already know who you are- completely. At 58, love is not about fairy tales or expectations. It’s about finding someone who sees your whole story and chooses to be part of the next chapter. That kind of love? It’s powerful. And rare.
As I watch my sister plan her wedding with a sparkle in her eye (Well, technically, since we are in different states, it would be “a brightness in her voice”) that I haven’t seen (heard) before, I realize how meaningful it is not just for her- but for all of us. For everyone who’s ever felt like they had to wait to be themselves. For anyone who thought it might be too late. For every person who's ever chosen authenticity over safety or approval. For me, this wedding is more than a ceremony. It’s a healing. A full-circle moment I didn’t realize I needed until now. I think of all the years my sister quietly held back parts of herself to make others comfortable, and I ache a little for her younger self. But I also rejoice. Because here she is- still standing, still loving, still becoming.
Her wedding is a celebration of love. But it’s also a quiet triumph over fear. A soft, radiant glow that says, “I made it. I get to have this, too.” She deserves every ounce of celebration. Every toast. Every slow dance. Every bit of awe from those watching her finally get what she’s always deserved: a love that’s real, recognized, and fully hers. She and Kim get to have every beautiful, meaningful, and unapologetic moment of it.
Here’s to my sister and Kim. And to the radiant reminder that it is never, ever too late to be fully loved- and fully yourself.
