Honestly, for the better part of a year while planning this wedding, the question I got asked most was, “You’re really doing a western cowboy-themed wedding?”

I’d be lying if I said I never hesitated. But every time I thought back to our first date at the ranch—watching the sunset, squinting against the wind, laughing like two complete idiots—I knew those cookie-cutter castle-garden weddings were never our vibe.

I didn’t want to wear a stiff, floor-length ball gown. I didn’t want to get herded through a fancy banquet hall by a rigid timeline. And I definitely didn’t want our love to feel like some scripted performance.
I wanted a wedding that screamed us—the kind where everyone could look at it and go, “Yeah, that’s so them.” Just like those old cowboy stories, where there are no rules, just open plains, wind, and two people riding off together.

So from the start, I decided to toss every “standard wedding template” out the window and just lean into what we loved.

We picked a ranch near his hometown for the venue. The backdrop was these golden willow trees with long, drooping branches that swayed in the breeze, like they were made for photos. Instead of a fancy floral arch, we had a carpenter build a simple wooden cross draped with white fabric—our own little altar. We lined the space with tree stumps topped with dried pampas grass and blooms, plus rows of basic white folding chairs. The aisle was even lined with hay and dried flowers. Walking down the grass, the air smelled like sunshine and hay.

Clothing-wise, we went all in. I skipped the traditional wedding dress for a flowy white fringed gown with a slit—perfect for showing off the cowboy boots I’d obsessed over for months. The fringe swished when I walked, making me feel equal parts ethereal and badass. I also grabbed a light gray cowboy hat to wear during the ceremony, and my makeup artist said it instantly gave me that laid-back western vibe I was going for.

For the bridesmaids, I didn’t make them wear identical dresses. I just picked a deep chocolate brown color, and they chose styles they loved—long gowns with fringe hems that matched my dress. Each of them paired theirs with a cowboy hat in different shades, so they looked cohesive but still totally themselves, not some generic, robotic bridal party. Our flower girl, my niece, wore a tiny white tulle dress and carried a mini dried bouquet. Standing next to me, all soft and squishy, she even made the ranch wind feel gentler.

The groomsmen? Total cowboys. All his best friends in cowboy hats, plaid shirts, jeans, and little neck scarves. They looked like they’d just ridden in from the ranch—cool and unpretentious. He wore a light tan blazer over jeans and boots, with a cowboy hat that matched mine. When we stood up there together, I snuck a glance at him, and his eyes were brighter than the sun that day.

The best part? After the ceremony, we all just hung out on the grass, drinking beer and chatting. No stuffy toasts, no awkward table visits. It felt like a big, rowdy ranch party, everyone laughing and telling stories about how we met.

Beforehand, I’d worried people might not get the theme, or that it wouldn’t feel “formal enough.” But on the day, seeing everyone so relaxed—even a few guests saying it was the most fun, personal wedding they’d ever been to—made it all worth it.

I think the best weddings aren’t about impressing other people. They’re about looking back and remembering the wind, the sun, and the people who were there for you. This wedding wasn’t fancy or polished, but it was us—free, wild, and ready to ride into the future together.

Now when I flip through the photos, seeing us in our hats at the cross, the bridesmaids grinning with their bouquets, my little niece standing next to me… I know sticking to our guns was the best decision ever. Getting to have a wedding that’s equal parts cool and romantic, with the person you love? Total cowboy-level win.