meet your wedding journalist

HSING TSENG

A young woman with long, wavy blonde hair wearing a sleeveless black top and a floral skirt, smiling at the camera against a brown background.

A woman with glasses lying on a couch cuddling with a large husky dog, surrounded by pillows and a blanket.

A young woman sits on a pink cushioned chair in front of a wall covered in pink roses. Behind her is a hanging decorative structure resembling a hot air balloon with pink and white flowers, set in a floral-themed room with pink chairs and tables.

I live in Aurora, Colorado with my fiancé Adam and our rescue pup Zagreus, a German Shepherd-Akita mix who barks at everything and is scared of everyone except the two of us. (He's a work in progress. But aren't we all?)

I've spent over ten years chasing stories. First in Denver newsrooms, where I learned that the best ones are never really about what happened. They're about who it happened to. The way someone's eyes change when they finally feel seen.

That's what I fell in love with. Not the event. The people at the center of it.

Portrait of a woman with long, wavy, blonde hair, wearing a black sleeveless top and jewelry, smiling in front of a brown background.

Construction sidewalk with a bright orange "Detour" sign and an arrow pointing left, orange barricades, and equipment nearby.

Then I took a detour

After television news, I pivoted to tech. I wrote for startups and software companies, translating complex products into human stories. I got good at it. Really good.

But somewhere between my third ebook on workflow automation and my fiftieth blog post about AI, a question started to nag at me: What am I actually building here?

The tech bubble doesn't burst, exactly. It just keeps inflating, and you realize you've been holding your breath the whole time.

A couple sharing a kiss indoors with decorative green ironwork and large windows in the background.

Then adam and i started planning our wedding

We've thought endlessly about the guest experience. The food, the flow, the moments we hope will land. We've debated appetizers and argued about the timeline and changed our minds about the first dance song at least four times.

But here's the thing we keep coming back to: we'll never really know how it felt to be there. We'll be too busy living it.

The photos will show us what we looked like. The video will show us what we said.

But who's going to tell us what it was like to witness us?

A woman in a lace dress is shown from the waist up, with her arms crossed in front of her. Her hand is wearing a wedding ring with a large central stone and smaller stones on each side. The image is in black and white.

That's the story i want to write.

Not just the couple's love story, though that's part of it. The whole thing.

The toast that made your best man cry. The moment your dad reached for your hand during the first dance. The conversation at Table 9 that no one else heard. The way your grandmother watched the ceremony with both hands pressed to her heart.

Your wedding as the people who love you experienced it. Preserved in a way that photos and video simply can't capture.

Name tag for Hsing Tseng, a wedding journalist, on a wooden table.

I'm a trained journalist. This is what I do.

I know how to notice what matters. I know how to ask the questions that unlock the real story. I know how to write it down before it disappears.

After years of telling other people's stories, I'm finally telling the ones that last.

The Love Dispatch is a wedding journalism studio for the timelessly sentimental. I attend your wedding as a writer. I observe. I interview. I document. And I deliver a keepsake that holds the full story of your day.