Wedding vows that sound like you: eight questions and a full example.
Most vows go wrong before the first word, when the writer starts from other people's lines (“you are my best friend”, “my rock”) instead of from the one night the car died. This page is the method we use: eight questions, a shape, and a complete set of vows for a made-up couple so you can see the length and the tone.
Have them written from your stories, $49 Read the full sample
Sam and Riley, the couple in the example, are invented. Every real set of vows we write comes only from the person's own answers.
1. Answer the eight questions first, in rough notes
Do not write vows yet. Write answers. Plain words, fragments, the way you would text a friend. These are the eight we ask every customer, and they are the eight that produce vows nobody else could have written:
- Their name, as you actually say it. “Riley”, not “my beloved partner”.
- How you met, and the moment you knew. Where, what the weather was doing, the small detail. Then the separate moment, often weeks later, when you knew.
- Two or three stories that are only you two. The hard year, the move, the dog, the thing they did that nobody else would have done.
- What they do for you without being asked. The habit. The thing you would miss first.
- The line they always say. Every couple has one. It is usually the best line in the vows and you did not have to write it.
- Three to five promises, big and small. At least one that only makes sense to the two of you. One funny one is allowed.
- Tone and length. Warm and funny, warm and heartfelt, short and simple, or formal. About one minute (150 words) or about two (300). Agree both with your partner.
- Anything to leave out. An ex, a family matter, a word you hate. Decide now so you are not editing on the morning.
2. Here is what those notes look like
These are Sam's actual answers from the sample order, typos and all. Notice there is not one “vow-ish” sentence in them.
Their name: Riley. Date: June 14, 2027. Tone: warm and funny. Length: about 2 minutes.
How you met, when you knew: bus stop in Portland, pouring rain, she had the only umbrella and offered half of it. three miles to the same neighbourhood. knew about a month in when she drove across town at 11pm because my car died and didn't make it a thing.
Stories: she waited two years while I finished my degree, working doubles, never once said hurry up. the flat with the broken boiler, we slept in coats and she made it funny. Biscuit the dog, who she said was "a small dog" and is not. she got my dad to talk about my mum for the first time in years, just by asking.
What they do, what they say: she reads the manual, I take things apart; between us things get built. she always says "we'll figure it out" and somehow we do. she leaves the last biscuit.
Promises: keep showing up. do the dishes (mostly). say "we'll figure it out" first when it's hard. keep a half of every umbrella for her. never call Biscuit a small dog.
Leave out: nothing. Notes: I'm not a words person, please don't make me sound like a poem.
3. The shape that turns notes into vows
Vows are not a list of compliments. They are a short story with promises at the end. Build them in this order:
- Open on the first specific moment (the umbrella, not “from the moment we met”). One or two sentences.
- The moment you knew, told as a scene: the night the car died, what they did, what it told you about them. End it with the one-line verdict: “That is you.”
- Two more stories, fast. One sentence each. This is where the hard year and the broken boiler go. They prove the verdict.
- The line they always say. Put it on its own. Let the room hear it.
- The promises. “So here is what I promise.” Then three to five, short, the small ones in among the big ones. Make the last promise echo their line.
- One closing sentence. Not a quote. Yours.
Read it aloud and time it. Cut anything you would not say to their face at the kitchen table. If a sentence could be in anybody's vows, it does not belong in yours.
4. The finished vows, from exactly those notes
268 words, about 1 minute 40 at a slow wedding pace. Warm and funny, as asked.
Riley, you shared an umbrella with a stranger in the rain, and then you shared six years, two flats and one very loud dog with him. I knew about a month in, the night my car died and you drove across town at eleven o'clock and never once made it a thing. That is you. You do the kind thing and then you refuse to mention it.
You waited two years while I finished what I had started, working doubles, and you never said hurry up. When the boiler broke we slept in our coats, and you made it funny. You got my dad talking about my mum again, just by asking. You read the manual; I take things apart; and between us, somehow, everything gets built.
And every time it got hard, you said the four words I now believe more than any others: we'll figure it out.
So here is what I promise. I will keep showing up, on the good days and the long ones. I will do the dishes, most of the time. I will keep half of every umbrella for you. I will never, ever call Biscuit a small dog. And when it gets hard, I will say it first, before you have to: we'll figure it out.
I love you. Let's go and figure it out.
Every fact in those vows is in the notes above. Nothing was added, which is the point: the vows are good because the notes were specific, not because the writing is fancy.
5. Five things that make vows worse
- Starting with a quote. The room came to hear you.
- Adjectives instead of events. “You are kind” is a claim. “You drove across town at eleven o'clock and never made it a thing” is proof.
- A list of thank-yous. That is the speech, not the vows.
- Going long. Past two minutes, guests stop listening and your partner starts worrying about theirs.
- Writing them the night before. You will default to the lines everyone has heard. Do the notes a month out, the vows a week out, and read them aloud three times.
6. The reading card
Print the vows in large type, one breath per line, with two or three cue words in the margin (“slow”, “look up”). Hands shake; a card you can read at arm's length saves the moment. Here is the sample reading card as a PDF so you can copy the layout.
Would rather someone wrote them from your answers?
That is the whole of our vows service: you answer the same eight questions, we write 150 to 300 words only from your answers, in your own words, with the large-type reading card, within 1 day. One free round of changes. Your partner never sees them unless you show them, even if you both order.
Also £39 incl. VAT · A$75 · C$65. Need the whole ceremony written for a friend who is officiating? That is the ceremony script, $79. Asked to MC the reception? MC script, $39.
Questions
How long should wedding vows be?
One to two minutes aloud, which is 150 to 300 words. Agree the length with your partner before either of you writes a word; one partner at 40 seconds and the other at four minutes is the most common thing that goes wrong on the day.
Should we write our vows together or separately?
Separately, but agree three things first: the length, the tone (funny, heartfelt, traditional) and whether you will share them before the day. Most couples keep them secret and that is fine as long as the length and tone match.
Do I have to be funny?
No. One true, specific line beats three jokes. If a funny promise comes naturally (the dishes, the dog, the umbrella), keep it; if you are forcing it, cut it.
What if I am not a words person?
Then do not write like one. Short sentences, your own phrases, the thing they always say. The example on this page came from notes that ended “please don't make me sound like a poem”, and it does not.
Can someone write them for me from my own stories?
Yes. That is our vows service: you answer the same eight questions, we write 150 to 300 words only from your answers, in your voice, with a large-type reading card, within 1 day, for $49 (£39 incl. VAT, A$75, C$65). One free round of changes. Your partner never sees them unless you show them.