Kristi Dance-Kinkead shared their story and experiences with us recently and you can find our conversation below.
Kristi, really appreciate you sharing your stories and insights with us. The world would have so much more understanding and empathy if we all were a bit more open about our stories and how they have helped shaped our journey and worldview. Let’s jump in with a fun one: Have you stood up for someone when it cost you something?
Now, see, I feel like that’s a trick question…
One, if I stand up for someone when I feel it’s the right thing to do, even if it’s against the popular opinion, and then I LOSE something—it was never supposed to be mine to begin with.
Two, if I choose NOT to stand up for someone when it is the right thing to do, then what I lose is exponentially more from an integrity, character and basic human decency standpoint than I could ever lose economically or materially.
So, yes, I can say I’ve lost things more times than I can count because I chose to stand up for folks when it wasn’t the way the rest of the herd was moving—but then I’ve never been fabulous at blending in in any way. Hell, I was bullied from the time I started elementary school because of my differences in how my brain worked.
But what I can also tell you is that what I lost or gained from each of the interactions has put me in a place that I needed to be in so I could have what I have today—a wonderful family, an amazing talented team working with me and my business and stellar clientele. Every “loss” has led me to more opportunities and blessings than I can put into words.
Can you briefly introduce yourself and share what makes you or your brand unique?
Hi! My name is Kristi Dance-Kinkead—Kris to some, The Wedding Principal to others LOL
I didn’t step into the wedding world because I wanted to run a big company. I stepped into it because I’ve always been the one who shows up when things get hard — the one who keeps people steady, who listens between the lines, who notices the moment someone needs support before they ever ask for it. Weddings, with all their beauty and pressure and emotion, simply gave that part of me a place to land & just gave me a place to put that part of myself to work.
In the beginning, it was just me — juggling planning, coordinating, DJ’ing, officiating, designing, and quietly helping families navigate the emotional undercurrent of the day.
I didn’t have a grand plan; I simply followed where my heart felt most useful. And somewhere along the way, that quiet intention grew into something much bigger than I ever expected.
As the years passed, my business grew, but not because I chased growth. It grew because people trusted me with their most vulnerable moments, & I treated that trust like something sacred.
Eventually, other women started gravitating toward the work too — women who, like me, cared more about people than perfection, who understood the weight of what we do, & who felt that same heartbeat of empathy guiding them. They became my team, my support system, & in many ways, my family.
One of the most meaningful parts of this journey has been mentoring these women & others in our industry, helping them find their niche, trust their strengths, & build something that feels true to who they are. Watching them grow has been one of the greatest joys of my career.
I know what it feels like to start with nothing but grit & heart. I know what it feels like to wonder if you’re enough. I know what it’s like to carve out a space in an industry that can be loud & catty & competitive. Helping other women find their niche, believe in their strengths, & step into their own leadership reminds me why I started & fuels the future of everything we’re creating.
Our services have expanded — venues, elopements, décor, florals, planning, coordination, DJ’ing, officiation — but the truth is, the heart of my work has never changed. I show up for people. I protect their joy. I hold space for their nerves, their excitement, their overwhelm, & their deeply human moments. And I lead with empathy because it’s the only way I know how to do this work.
As we continue to grow, my promise — to myself, to my team, to every couple who chooses us — is simple: I will keep leading with heart. I will keep choosing intention over ego. I will always choose empathy. And I will keep creating wedding experiences where people feel truly cared for — not just because it’s good business, but because it’s who I am.
Okay, so here’s a deep one: What breaks the bonds between people—and what restores them?
If there’s one thing this industry has taught me, it’s that people don’t fall apart because of big explosions.
They drift because of quiet cracks—the conversations that never happened, the assumptions that filled in the blanks, the feelings that sat in the corner waiting to be acknowledged.
Most bonds break in the same, predictable way:
Communication doesn’t disappear—it just gets replaced by everything that isn’t communication.
Assumptions. Silence. Snapping at each other because no one actually said the thing that mattered.
The wedding world is basically a masterclass in this: one vendor thinks someone else handled it, a couple assumes we magically know their expectations, or a team member stays quiet to avoid sounding difficult…until something finally breaks.
And the truth? Miscommunication doesn’t just create problems—it creates distance.
That’s when resentment sneaks in, when trust erodes, when people start working around each other instead of with each other.
But here’s the good news—bonds can be rebuilt & often, they come back stronger.
Restoring connection isn’t about grand gestures or long speeches.
It begins the moment someone chooses courage over comfort.
It’s rebuilt when someone says, “Hey, can we talk about this?” before the situation goes nuclear.
When we ask questions instead of assuming answers.
It’s rebuilt when we listen to understand, not to defend.
You can feel the entire temperature of a room change when people stop preparing their rebuttals & start actually hearing each other.
It’s rebuilt when accountability enters the chat.
A simple, “I see how that landed—let’s fix it,” is one of the most powerful tools in leadership & in love.
And most importantly, connection returns when the team remembers they’re on the same side.
Not me versus you. Not vendors versus timeline. Not planner versus photographer or couple versus stress.
Just us—figuring out the imperfect, beautiful, human thing together.
Because at the end of the day, communication is the glue.
It’s the thread that holds weddings, families, friendships, & vendor teams together.
It’s the difference between chaos & calm, frustration & trust, damage & repair.
When we show up with clarity, humility, & a little heart-led courage, we don’t just mend bonds—we reinforce them.
We build relationships that weather storms, timelines, personalities, & all the wild unpredictability this industry can throw at us.
And that, my friend, is what keeps this work human.
That’s what keeps us connected.
That’s what keeps us whole.
Was there ever a time you almost gave up?
In the wedding industry, people often assume the hardest part of our job is the long hours or the logistics. But the real weight—the part no one trains you for—is the emotional labor.
It’s the responsibility of holding space for someone else’s once-in-a-lifetime moments while quietly navigating storms of your own.
At the end of November 2024, I came closer than ever to walking away from my business.
It had been one of the busiest seasons I’d ever experienced—a blur of timelines, music cues, vendor calls, décor plans, & late-night emails. I had served wonderful couples…& I had also encountered some of the most challenging dynamics of my career.
Some couples who had been warm & communicative for months suddenly shifted in the days leading up to their weddings.
Personalities changed. Expectations escalated. Demands appeared where respectful partnership had once been.
And I’ll own my part in it: I had allowed boundaries to stretch far beyond what was healthy. I gave miles before retainers were paid. I said yes when I should’ve said, “Let’s talk about that.” It was a difficult, necessary lesson.
Then, a separate wedding brought a single mistake—one incorrect song. The rest of the day was beautiful, but that moment became the focus. And the criticism didn’t stay private.
Multiple folks took their frustrations straight to social media, painting narratives that erased the countless hours & heartfelt effort poured into their days.
And as hard as all of that was, the moment that cut deepest came from a place I never anticipated:
A venue owner I trusted completely.
I had poured myself into helping build that venue’s services, reputation, & marketing—lifting them in every way I could because I believed in what we were creating together.
But when complaints surfaced from a wedding party member (complaints based on instructions the bride herself had given me), the venue owner redirected the frustration toward me to shield himself.
He knew the situation had nothing to do with him, & yet he deflected, distanced, didn’t investigate or ask me directly what happened & ultimately told people he “didn’t recommend” me—despite having worked with me closely for what was almost a year & benefiting from my support.
It was a stunning, painful reminder that loyalty isn’t always reciprocated.
That betrayal, layered on top of the difficult couples & public criticism, created a weight that felt almost impossible to carry.
By late November, I found myself asking a question I never thought I would:
Is this still worth it?
For the first time, I imagined scaling back to only DJing & officiating. I imagined walking away from planning entirely. I even imagined closing the doors for good. It wasn’t burnout alone—it was heartbreak, disillusionment, & exhaustion all sitting at the same table.
But then came two couples who unknowingly helped me find my way back to myself.
Kaitlin & Jim — December 27th.
Marklee & Zane — December 31st.
They were everything good about this work.
Kind, gracious, expressive with their gratitude.
Joyful in a way that reminded me joy is contagious.
Grounded in a way that made giving my best feel natural again.
They trusted me completely.
They appreciated the heart behind every detail.
They made space for the humanity in the work—not just the result.
Their weddings didn’t just go smoothly; they restored something in me.
They reminded me that for every difficult chapter, there are far more beautiful ones that make the journey worthwhile.
Those two couples didn’t know it, but they saved more than a season.
They saved my business.
They restored my belief in my purpose.
They reminded me why I started.
And sometimes, all it takes is one moment of kindness—or in my case, two extraordinary couples—to bring you back to the work you were meant to do.
I think our readers would appreciate hearing more about your values and what you think matters in life and career, etc. So our next question is along those lines. What are the biggest lies your industry tells itself?
The event industry is a beautiful contradiction: equal parts artistry & emergency management, heart work & hard work. We tell love stories for a living, yet we rarely pause long enough to tell the truth about our own.
Over the years, I’ve watched our industry cling to a handful of myths—comforting stories we repeat to ourselves because the truth feels heavier. But if we want healthier professionals, happier clients, & more sustainable careers, we have to name these lies for what they are.
And so, here they are—spoken with affection, candor, and a deep respect for the people who carry this work on their shoulders.
⸻
Lie #1: “We’re just here to make magic.”
The magic is real—but so is the machinery behind it.
Our days are woven from split-second decisions, quiet sacrifices, & the kind of emotional labor no one warns you about.
Calling it “magic” alone diminishes the skill, endurance, & leadership it takes to build an unforgettable event. We’re not wand-wavers; we’re crisis navigators who happen to sprinkle glitter while we work.
Lie #2: “Boundaries make us difficult.”
Somewhere along the way, availability became mistaken for devotion.
In reality, boundaries are the backbone of professionalism. They protect our mental health, our families, & the very creativity couples hire us for. A burnt-out planner, photographer, or venue owner is not a blessing to anyone. The lie that we must be “on” 24/7 keeps too many talented people from lasting in this industry at all.
Lie #3: “Clients know exactly what they want.”
Most clients know what they feel, not what they need.
They bring dreams, not timelines. Inspiration boards, not logistical roadmaps. It’s not their fault—weddings are unfamiliar terrain. When we pretend they “should” know more, we set up everyone, including ourselves, for frustration. Our real job is interpretation: translating emotion into execution.
Lie #4: “Vendors are interchangeable.”
Nothing could be further from the truth.
A wedding day is a living ecosystem, & every vendor influences the entire experience. The right team elevates a day; a mismatched one derails it. Collaboration is everything. Connection is everything. The best events happen when professionals respect one another as humans, not replaceable parts.
Lie #5: “Red flags will smooth out by the wedding day.”
If only.
Behavior during planning is the most reliable forecast of behavior on the wedding day. Disrespect doesn’t soften. Chaos doesn’t calm. Unrealistic expectations don’t magically shrink. Pretending otherwise isn’t optimism—it’s denial. Naming red flags early is one of the greatest gifts we give our clients and ourselves.
Lie #6: “We’re in control.”
We’re prepared, yes.
We are strategic, organized, and ten steps ahead—but in control?
Not entirely.
Weather changes, emotions surge, families clash, timelines shift. Our strength isn’t in controlling every variable; it’s in adapting with grace. True leadership shows up not when everything goes right, but when nothing does.
Lie #7: “We don’t take things personally.”
We tell ourselves we shouldn’t—but we do.
Because this is emotional work.
We stand in the middle of life’s most intimate moments. We absorb tension, manage expectations, & carry the weight of perfection even though perfection isn’t real. Pretending we’re immune to hurt only isolates us further.
Lie #8: “Exhaustion equals success.”
This may be the most dangerous lie of all.
We wear our tired bodies like badges of honor, as if depletion proves our dedication. But exhaustion is not a metric of value—it’s a warning sign. Real success looks like sustainability, joy, & longevity. It looks like professionals who are allowed to rest.
Lie #9: “Growth means more.”
More weddings.
More clients.
More offerings.
More hustle.
But real growth is often an act of subtraction.
Fewer events with better alignment. Smaller calendars with deeper impact. Less noise, more intention. In an industry that glorifies “busy,” choosing “better” is a quiet revolution.
Lie #10: “We’re replaceable.”
We repeat this lie as a form of self-protection.
But couples don’t remember how many chairs were rented or how neatly the signage was spaced. They remember the calm you created, the laughter you sparked, the way you held their day together when the world felt overwhelming. Skill matters—but heart is what makes you unforgettable.
Lie #11: “Professionalism requires perfection.”
Perfection is brittle; honesty is strong.
The most trustworthy leaders aren’t the ones who claim to be flawless. They’re the ones who communicate clearly, own mistakes, and fix problems with humility & competence.
Couples don’t need perfection. They need partnership.
Lie #12: “We’re alone.”
The truth?
We are an entire galaxy of creatives & caretakers carrying one another through long seasons, long hours, & longer expectations.
When we lead with empathy, when we uplift instead of compete, when we honor each other’s humanity—the whole industry breathes easier.
The truth is that the event industry is one of the most beautiful, demanding, heart-stretching professions in the world.
We create moments people never forget.
We steady hands, soothe nerves, solve problems, & hold joy like it matters—because it does.
But we can only keep doing this work well if we tell the truth about it.
We deserve honesty.
We deserve sustainability.
We deserve workplaces where empathy is a strategy, not an afterthought.
And maybe, just maybe, if we stop believing the lies, we’ll finally make space for a healthier, more human version of this industry—one where magic isn’t the myth.
It’s the outcome of people who are supported, respected, & allowed to thrive.
Okay, so before we go, let’s tackle one more area. What is the story you hope people tell about you when you’re gone?
I hope they’ll say I was a woman who built things—not just businesses, not just venues, not just weddings, but people.
I hope they’ll say I had a way of walking into a room & seeing potential where others saw problems. I could take a scattered dream, a struggling vendor, a stressed-out bride, or a half-finished venue & breathe life into it. I made things possible for people who didn’t believe they had permission to dream that big.
I hope they’ll tell the story of a woman who led with heart, even when it cost me something.
Especially when it cost me something.
I hope they’ll talk about how I loved people & life loudly & fiercely—how I advocated for her team, defended them, celebrated them, & believed in them long before they believed in themselves.
I hope they’ll say I mentored other women not out of obligation, but because I saw their spark & wanted to hand them a torch to keep building their fire.
I hope they’ll remember how I showed up on the hardest days: the weddings where everything went sideways, the meetings where tensions ran high, the seasons where life knocked her flat…& I still found a way to offer grace. I didn’t pretend things were perfect—I simply kept choosing courage.
I hope they’ll talk about my laughter—that dry, sarcastic, tender mix that somehow made everyone exhale. About the way I would tell the truth without ever making them feel small. About how I found humor inside chaos, softness inside storms, & humanity inside every mess.
I hope they’ll say I fought for people.
I protected them.
And I never once did it or asked for applause.
I hope they’ll tell the story of how I transformed the wedding industry in my little corner of the world—not by being flashy, but by being steady.
By being the calm in the center of so many storms.
By teaching others that empathy is a strength, that boundaries are love in action, & that leadership doesn’t have to roar to be powerful.
I hope they’ll remember me as the woman who held so many together, even when I felt like I was unraveling myself.
And at the end, I hope what people will say is simple:
“She loved big. She led with heart. She changed lives quietly & boldly. And we are better because she was here.”
Contact Info:
- Website: Www.Kinkead performance and events.com
- Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/share/16TXRVFMwv/?mibextid=wwXIfr
Image Credits
Wendy Crowder Photography
Amanda C Wilson Photography
Lovely Luxe Photography
so if you or someone you know deserves recognition please let us know here.
