Example 1: Romantic and heartfelt vows to his wife
295 words · about 2 min spoken
Elena,
The first time I met you, I was covered in wet clay, hopeless at the wheel, and you were laughing instead of getting angry. You showed me how to brace my elbows, told me to slow down and stop fighting it. I didn’t know then that you’d be the person who would teach me, day by day, how to let life in without rushing past it.
I knew you were the one that night in our flat in Johannesburg, when the lights went out before my big presentation. You filled the room with candlelight, brewed coffee on the gas stove, and listened as I stumbled through my slides. You stayed up with me until I finally got it right. Because of you, I walked into work the next day believing I could do anything.
I love the way you remember everyone’s name and ask after their families. The way you laugh with your mom every Sunday night, so loud I can hear it through the walls. I love that you still keep my first wobbly, lopsided bowl on your desk, even though you’ve made hundreds of better ones since.
I promise to slow down and listen, the way you taught me, especially when life gets messy. I promise to light the candles when you’re the one facing the darkness. I promise to tell you the truth, even when it’s hard. I promise to keep showing up, not just on our wedding day, but on every ordinary Saturday from now on.
I can’t wait to see you turn our spare room into your studio, to build a life where both our families—yours from Mexico City, mine from Soweto—are truly one. I choose you, and I will keep choosing you, for the rest of my life.
What the writer told Toastful to get this speech
- Speaker
- Thabo, vows to my wife
- How they met
- We met at a Saturday pottery class in Johannesburg that my sister signed me up for as a joke. My first bowl collapsed and flicked wet clay all over Elena's apron. She just laughed, showed me how to brace my elbows and said, 'Slow down. You're fighting it.'
- When they knew
- The night before my first big presentation at work, load-shedding knocked the power out. Elena lit every candle in the flat, made coffee on the gas stove and had me rehearse to her by candlelight until I stopped stumbling. I nailed it the next day.
- What they love
- She remembers the name of every car guard and barista she meets and asks after their kids. She calls her mom in Mexico City every Sunday night, and I can hear her laughing from two rooms away. And she still keeps the lopsided bowl I made in that first class on her desk, holding her keys.
- Promises
- To slow down and listen, the way she taught me at the wheel. To be the one lighting the candles when she's the one with the big deadline. To tell her the truth, even when it's hard. To keep showing up, on the big days and every ordinary Saturday.
- Looking ahead
- A house with a spare room she can turn into a pottery studio.
- Extras
- Her family flew in from Mexico City, and mine is from Soweto. Today our two families become one.