One of the things I make a real point of explaining to couples at their pre-wedding meeting is how I actually work on the wedding day. In fact, I probably exaggerate the point slightly because I want couples to know exactly what they're booking me for. I'm not going to spend the day constantly posing you, moving your hands around, tilting your head into exactly the right position or repeatedly telling you where to look. That's never been how I photograph weddings, and for the vast majority of couples I meet, the response when I explain it is usually something along the lines of, “Good, that's exactly what we want.”

“I hate having my photograph taken.” If I had a pound for every time somebody had said that to me during a wedding meeting, I could probably have retired from wedding photography by now. Sometimes it's both people, although quite often one half of the couple is perfectly happy about the whole thing while the other looks genuinely horrified at the thought of spending their wedding day in front of a camera. Then comes the usual explanation: “I'm really awkward in photographs,” “I never know what to do,” or one of my favourites, when somebody points at their partner and says, “You'll have your work cut out with this one.”

The funny thing is, after 18 years photographing weddings, I've realised that most people who tell me they're terrible in photographs aren't terrible in photographs at all. They're uncomfortable being photographed when they're thinking about being photographed, and those are two very different things.

I've been photographing weddings for 18 years now and, because I'm based in this part of the world, a huge number of those weddings have been across North Yorkshire. You get used to driving through the North York Moors on the way to work, heading towards the coast for a wedding in Whitby or Scarborough, or finding yourself halfway down a country lane looking for a wedding venue that you're absolutely certain didn't exist the last time you checked Google Maps.

Nearly every wedding photographer describes themselves as natural these days. It's become one of those words that's used so often that I'm not entirely sure anybody really knows what it's supposed to mean anymore.

Natural wedding photography, relaxed wedding photography, documentary wedding photography, candid wedding photography... you'll see all of them while you're looking for a photographer, usually accompanied by photographs of couples walking through fields looking suspiciously like somebody has just told them to walk through a field.

When couples first start looking at wedding photography packages, one of the first decisions they have to make is how long they actually want their photographer there. Three hours might cover the ceremony and a few photographs afterwards. Five hours sounds like plenty. Then there’s eight hours, ten hours or full-day wedding photography, and suddenly you’re wondering whether you really need somebody wandering around with a camera for quite that long.

It’s a perfectly reasonable question, particularly when you’re trying to keep control of a wedding budget. But after photographing weddings for almost two decades, I think there’s another question worth asking at the same time: which parts of your wedding story are you happy not to have photographs of?

One of the nicest things about photographing weddings is that no two stories ever begin in exactly the same place. Some start in grand country houses, others in village churches that have stood for hundreds of years, while some begin with a much smaller ceremony surrounded by the people who matter most before the celebrations move somewhere completely different. Sam and Charlotte's wedding was one of those days, beginning with a lovely ceremony at Redcar Registry Office before everyone made their way to Fletcher's Farm for an afternoon and evening of celebrating.

I've photographed quite a few weddings here over the years and, no matter how many times I drive through the gates, it always feels like somewhere special. Tucked away just outside Saltburn-by-the-Sea on the North Yorkshire coast, it somehow manages to feel grand without ever losing that relaxed, welcoming atmosphere. Every couple puts their own stamp on the venue, which is probably why no two weddings here have ever felt the same.

When couples first get in touch, the conversation usually starts with photographs. They'll tell me they've been looking through my portfolio, they'll mention a particular wedding they've seen on the website or they'll explain that they're looking for someone who captures the day naturally rather than filling it with awkward poses. It's exactly the conversation I'd expect, because photographs are ultimately the reason people book a wedding photographer.

What often surprises them, though, is something they haven't really considered.

There's a sentence I hear at almost every wedding consultation, and after seventeen years as a wedding photographer, I can usually predict when it's coming.

"We're really awkward in front of the camera."

It almost always arrives with a nervous smile, usually followed by a glance between the two of them as if they're admitting some terrible secret. The funny thing is, they're convinced they're the only couple who feel that way, when in reality they're saying exactly what hundreds of couples before them have said.

There’s something I find myself doing almost without thinking these days. Whether I’m booking a hotel for a weekend away, ordering something online or looking for a new café to try, I always end up doing exactly the same thing before making a decision.

I read the reviews.

Not because I expect every business to be perfect, but because I want to know what it's really like once the sales pitch has finished. Photographs can look amazing, websites can be beautifully designed and social media is often full of highlight reels, but reviews are where real people tell real stories. They’re honest, they're personal and, more often than not, they answer the questions we didn't even realise we were asking.

If you're planning your wedding, you've probably already imagined the photographs you'll treasure forever. Perhaps it's walking back down the aisle as newlyweds, confetti filling the air around you, or that beautiful portrait together as the sun begins to disappear behind the trees. They're the photographs we all expect to love because they're the moments we see on social media, in wedding magazines and on venue websites.

They're important, of course, and I make sure every couple has those photographs. But after photographing weddings across North Yorkshire, the North East and beyond for more than seventeen years, I've realised something that genuinely surprised me.