I was never the little girl who dreamed about her wedding day. I fantasized about moving to New York and building a career in television, and I always kept my eye on the prize. That’s not to say I didn’t Also I dreamed of finding my husband and starting a family together, but I had faith that the time would come when it would be so.

He came into my life on a summer night in July 2022. Six feet of kindness, laughter, and instant connection. A person of faith who valued family, shared my love of travel, and answered my random opening line — “Are you a happy person?” — with a resounding yes.

Our first trip together was to Italy, with his parents and a handful of our friends. We were still getting to know each other, and it was a four-day crash course in who he was around the people he cared about. On the way home, my boyfriend said, “You’re going to marry that man.” I blushed, as if the thought was ridiculous, but I knew it was true.

In April 2023, after a proposal of epic proportions, I agreed to marry the only person I have ever truly loved. As we planned our wedding, I dreamed of our day being filled with our favorite things: delicious food, music, and most importantly, our closest family and friends. It would be the kickoff to what would undoubtedly be a full and loving life together.

Location-wise, nothing jumped out at us. Atlanta, where he grew up? He didn’t want it. My hometown in Massachusetts? I didn’t think so. New York City, where we both live? It would seem impossible to narrow down the guest list.

We decided to return to Italy for the wedding and over the next year, as we finalised the venue, suppliers and guest list, the excitement was palpable.

But life has a funny way of keeping you on the edge of your seat. As June 2, 2024 approached, it became abundantly clear that getting married was no longer an option and the decision was made to call off our wedding.

We ended our relationship for reasons known only to him and me—I won’t go into them here, and honestly, that’s not why I’m sharing my story. What I will say is that I’ve never experienced such heartbreak before; it was a brutal and undying pain. The kind of pain that convinced me I could never set foot in Italy again, where we had made so many memories.

But as the phone calls about the news spread and the texts and voicemails poured in, I heard that dozens of family members and friends would be boarding the plane and showing up whether I wanted them to or not.

I had already cancelled my flight, but after a weekend of incessant encouragement from lifelong friends, I agreed to book another one – with plans to get together for what would now be a celebration of a different kind of love.

They say life is 10% what happens to you and 90% how you react to it, and that’s a motto I’ve always embraced: this was not a time to stop. Landing at Milan airport, I was met by loved ones on both sides, and with them the inevitable waves of emotion. The grief was even more relentless when I arrived at the hotel alone. I retreated to my room, but I couldn’t sleep. How could I not have seen this coming? If I had, my family and friends might not have had this financial burden, and I wouldn’t have been left heartbroken.

But the next day, as loved ones arrived from all over the world, the intrusive thoughts calmed down and I began to feel the love. The army had assembled.

The once anticipated, now somewhat dreaded day of what was supposed to be my wedding arrived—with rain—but I told myself it was just a matter of reframing. It was a new day, in a beautiful place, surrounded by beautiful people, and I had to be grateful for that gift. I put on a red dress instead of the wedding dress I was supposed to wear. The rain cleared, the sky cleared, and just like that, I found myself in a fairytale setting, in a room so full of love, it was hard to feel anything else. Sure, the person I once dreamed of standing next to me was noticeably absent, but in a room like that, you focus on what you have, not what you don’t.

Just before we went to dinner, the wedding planner asked me, “Do you want to say a few words?” I had only just decided to show up — speaking hadn’t even occurred to me. I looked around the room. How could I not addressing this group that stood by me when I needed them most? The words came easily…and the jokes even easier as I thanked everyone for being there. My father spoke next, then took my hand to begin an unconventional, unexpected, non-marital father-daughter dance.

As the hours passed, I was grateful to be surrounded by the people closest to me. We danced to ABBA, Gloria Gaynor, and Elton John, and at the end of the night, my sister and I, along with a few of my lifelong friends, jumped into the lake — dresses and all.

When I got home, I put together a highlight reel of special moments from the day and hit post on TikTok to share with family and friends. Then I turned off my phone and went to church alone for the first time in a long time.

An hour later I saw my phone blowing up with notifications. I took a deep breath and saw that in just an hour, hundreds of people had seen and shared my TikTok post.

In the blink of an eye, on a day when I was truly alone for the first time in months, I felt a lot less alone. In the days that followed, the response grew stronger, and so did my gratitude for strangers I had never met before. Over 1.7 million people watched my video. “I have never been so proud of a complete stranger,” one person wrote. “SO beautiful and brave. I pray that as your heart heals, God sends you the most incredible love story. May the beauty of what is to come outweigh the pain of today. Cheers to the next chapter!” said another.

Each word felt like it put a piece of my heart back into place and confirmed what I always knew: that everything happens exactly as it is supposed to.

Through good times and bad, that’s what I hold on to. If there’s one thing I know, thanks to the big, crazy family you see in that video, it’s that it’s a lot easier to get through life’s challenges with love and support around you.

Now I’ve discovered that in thousands of people I’ve never met. It’s made all the difference. And for those who are now carrying their own pain, from one stranger to the next, I’m ricocheting that love, support, and strength right back to you. We can do this. And the best part? We’re going to come out the other side even stronger.

This article was originally published on TODAY.com