There, I saw a beautiful version of myself, double chin and all, unable to fit into a dress.

"Have you bought Zexy yet?"
I have been a daughter for 28 years now, but my father's words always carry a certain freshness. Perhaps that is just how it is between a father and daughter.

Recalling the familiar slogan, I thought, "I certainly haven't bought it yet," and stopped by Tsutaya Books while I was out for something else, much like buying a new notebook at the start of a school term.

When I reached the magazine section, Zexy was proudly displayed flat on the table.
Picking it up to look, the large text "The Complete Wedding Book" and "2022 Trend Dresses" jumped out at me. White rose decorations surrounded those headlines and a beautiful bride. The magazine, so vividly happy, felt far too ill-suited for me right now, so I put Zexy back on the table and left Tsutaya Books.

At the time, only a few months after my so-called "shotgun marriage," my skin and heart were a wreck from morning sickness. Regarding money, I had only just managed to grasp the expenses for childbirth and our new life.
I felt miserable, instinctively sensing the sharpness of the thorns in the white roses of blessing that surrounded the bride.

The 10 months where "I" disappear

From then on, time passed in a blur.
Although I found out I was pregnant around October, as we moved forward with the proposal my husband made, greetings to each other's parents, and moving into a home together, we submitted our marriage registration at the end of December and reached the stable period of pregnancy in January.

However, just moving forward didn't mean we could become a married couple.
Behind the formal rituals, we clashed and acknowledged each other every single day to become a couple.

There were days I wanted to abandon this fate.
But he never gave up, not for a single second, and never looked back.
I believe that "certainty" is the reason we were able to become a couple even in such a short time.

Still, it wasn't enough time.
The more I grew to love him, the more I wanted him to know me.
Yet, my belly kept growing, my thoughts and priorities changed, and I, who had been a single woman, was disappearing to the point where I forgot my own shape.

As if a bath bomb were slowly dissolving, the "me" I had worked so hard to build was blurring away.
At the very least, before I became a mother, I wanted to capture the current me and him in a photo.
Clinging to that thought, I contacted photographer Ayase.

The dream of being a beloved bride is crushed by ever-increasing weight

Ayase said, "Of course, let's do it!" and suggested, "Why don't we shoot at Roots&Routes?"
Roots&Routes is a service Ayase started around last year that traces the roots of one's life while taking photos.
Thinking it would also serve as a way to make my rounds since "we can't have a wedding for a while...", I decided to go with Roots&Routes.

"I wonder if it's expensive to rent a dress."
In our first meeting, I was consulting about that, as I hadn't been able to let go of my longing for a wedding dress. I looked at maternity dresses whenever I had a spare moment. However, there wasn't a single maternity dress I was satisfied with.

I had no choice but to buy a white dress online, but the zipper wouldn't close on the dress-like shape with a cinched waist. In the end, I decided to wear the third white dress I bought, a fluffy one that hid my body lines. I thought I would at least be particular about my hair and makeup, but I gave up, sulking that no matter what I did, I couldn't be a beloved bride.

On the morning of the Roots&Routes shoot, the person in the mirror was far from a bride

On the morning of the day, the person reflected in the mirror was not dressed appropriately for a photo shoot. Even with makeup, my skin and hair were a mess, and wearing the white dress made my body look square and puffy like a marshmallow. I couldn't find the words to reply to my husband, who had said the wonderful words, "I'm looking forward to it."

I took the train to the station where my middle school was. When I arrived, photographer Ayase and Noa-chan were there, along with planner Buchi, and my best friends, who are always notoriously late, were waiting for me, dressed up perfectly.

I received the itinerary for today's journey from Buchi and turned toward my best friends who were waiting. Erina was crouching down to fix her makeup, just as she always does. When I turned around and made eye contact with Usui, who was pushing her bicycle, it was just like our usual commute to school.

After walking around the schoolyard together, we parted at the intersection and headed to my parents' house.
"Walking down this road reminds me of the day I came to ask for your hand in marriage, and I get nervous."
The face of my husband, who said that, showed a composure that contradicted his words.
It was a smile that made me think about how I had become family with my family.

When I arrived home, my grandfather was waiting, tending to the garden.
Then, my mother emerged from the entrance with a soft "hehe." She always gives that shy smile, as if she were the star of the show.

We took photos in front of the house, and then, we took some at a nearby park.
"Let's take photos at the park where you'll go with your new family someday."
We followed along with the suggestion from our planner, Buchi. Since our family had never gone to the local park together, it felt a bit too sentimental and ticklish.

However, the photos we took, standing with space left for the baby, captured the "now" even more than the future.

After that, we went around to my workplace and then to my husband's parents' home.
Before I knew it, I had forgotten to check my makeup.
Looking into the eyes of the precious people waiting for us at every destination. I was simply feeling that happiness.
More than my own appearance, I was captivated by the scenes of happiness that piled up the more we walked.

As the sun began to set, we decided to meet up again at Hamacho Park, where we had our first date.
"Meet up and go on a date just like that day."
The suggestion from our planner, Buchi, felt ticklish once again.
Suppressing my embarrassment, I headed toward my husband, who was waiting for me.

Even though I wanted to get through it calmly, tears welled up when I found my husband waiting with a happy look on his face.

We aren't together just because we conceived and moved forward.
I love this person, the only one in the world, and I chose him.

That's what I thought.

As if retracing our first date, we bought ice cream at a convenience store and walked along the Sumida River, talking about trivial things.

Rather than being photographed, I had the feeling of imprinting these precious people and places into my own eyes. I realized that photos are things that make those moments certain, record them vividly, and support our memories.

A journey to meet them once again: Roots & Routes

About two weeks later, the photos arrived from Ayase.
I had thought photos were for "memories," but what I felt from them was "encounters." A journey to meet the precious people we have lived with until now, as a married couple—that was our Roots & Routes.

The version of me until now, who felt like I was disappearing after getting pregnant and getting married, was easily brought back by Roots & Routes. On the other hand, the photos with my family and friends, whom I have been with for many years, made me think of a future that suits the words "from now on" rather than a past filled with nostalgia.

Using taking photos as an excuse, I called the people who are precious to me to meet them again as the person I am now. Looking into each other's eyes, I realized that both what doesn't change and what does change are precious.

In the photos, I couldn't fit into my dress, my face was swollen, and I had a beautiful expression that seemed to say that this moment was my prime.