Join us under the Sun and Moon • 11.01.2026 •
Our Story
Like the sun and the moon — different by nature, magical in alignment
Bright Stars, Worlds Apart
Noah:
Before I Met AJ
I was born at Good Samaritan Hospital on March 1, 1988, the only child of two very loving parents, Lee and Susan, who had me later in life. From the beginning, I grew up wanting for nothing. My parents often tell the story that when I was born, I came out with my eyes wide open, ready to see the world. And from the moment I could walk, I was heading out the front door, eager to experience life, make friends, and find my next adventure.
As a kid, I loved anything that let me explore, create, or connect with people. I grew up playing soccer and baseball, riding horses, dressing up, acting in community theatre, creating fantasy worlds, playing video games, and having endless sleepovers, usually at my friends' houses. I also tried my hand at football, but it did not fully take hold until I got to high school at Westmont from 2004 to 2007.
My early school years were spent at Montessori, where hands-on learning, building, creating, exploring, and expressing yourself were encouraged. It was a great place for a younger version of me to dive deeply into the things I naturally loved. I attended Montessori from first through third grade, made great friends, and had some wonderful experiences, but eventually I needed more structure. I repeated third grade when I transferred to Forest Hills, the school down the street, and school changed for me.
Learning in a more traditional structure was hard, especially reading and math. What my parents and I would eventually come to understand is that I am dyslexic. At the time, there were not many resources available for kids with dyslexia, and that learning disability shaped a lot of my decisions, confidence, and feelings about myself well into my mid-30s.
Even during the harder parts of school, my younger years, teenage years, twenties and thirties were marked by an incredibly close family. We never had a very close relationship with my dad's side of the family, but my mom's side was a different story. She was blessed with two sisters and a brother, Laura, Andrew, and Sarah, and I was blessed with amazing aunts and uncles. Aunt Lolo has Uncle Paul, Uncle Andrew had Aunt Velda, and Aunt Sarah has Uncle John. Their mom, my grandmother, who I got to name Gramom, was my best friend as a kid. I was also blessed with the best cousins a kid could have. Jordan, Ben, Emma and Anna formed the kids circle, and we all loved each other without question.
That side of the family did all the family things together. We took trips to Tahoe, where I started skiing at a young age and eventually fell in love with snowboarding. We had endless family barbecues, celebrated all the holidays together, and built a foundation of love and support that still informs who I am and what matters to me today. Even after the loss of Gramom and Aunt Velda in 2013, I believe we still carry them with us each and every day.
After Forest Hills came Rolling Hills, and middle school was an entirely different experience. It was there that I met three of my best friends: Sean, Quinton, and Kevin. Our group was smaller back then, but it has since grown into a group of about 11 men who I now call not only my best friends, but my chosen brothers.
Middle school was that awkward stage of growing into your own skin, figuring out who you are becoming, going through puberty, and starting to like girls. Some of us walked through that stage more gracefully than others, but I am so grateful I had the crew I did to go through that part of life with. They were the first group of friends I felt truly loved and accepted by. The first group I connected with from day one without having to say a word. We just knew we were brothers.
Then came high school, and we all went to Westmont. Nick, the final piece of the friendship puzzle, became a full-time brother from that point on. We became friends while waiting in line for classes before freshman year, and we never looked back. High school was an incredible experience for all of us. We each had our own interests, but football and friendship kept us close.
Playing ball with "The Guys," as we came to be known, made for an unforgettable four years. Every possible moment we could spend together, we did. Whether it was hanging at lunch in the quad, raiding the fridge and sleeping at my parents' house between double-day practices, swimming and late-night barbecuing at Kevin's house, partying and hot tubbing at the Salls', playing video games and sneaking wine at Sean's folks' townhouse by the dairy, or sleeping it off at Nick's house and eating the endless amount of Jack in the Box breakfast his mom would get us in the morning, we were always together.
We spent those years drifting our cars at night or at West Valley College, sticking around for varsity football games when we were freshmen and sophomores, then heading to Taco Bell on San Tomas until someone drove through and told everyone where the next house party was. We built and shot potato guns, went on countless lake camping trips with the Salls and Lovelace crew, camped, tubed, wakeboarded, and partied off-grid. We wore tall tees at basketball games and gigged to Hyphy music from artists like Mac Dre, E-40, Too Short, and Keak da Sneak. We even made it to the CCS championship game against Woodside our Sophomore year and eventually lost to a guy named Julian Edelman who played QB at the time, yes the one you’re thinking of. The list could go on forever.
We were mischievous kids who loved to have fun, but more than anything, we loved having fun together. "The Guys" were inseparable, and I am grateful that I get to have them standing by my side as my best man and groomsmen.
After high school, we all graduated and chose different paths, but we stayed close. I went off to Sonoma State as a Political Science major while Obama was running for president in 2008, and it was an exciting time. Not just because of the politics, but because I was figuring out how to live on my own. I joined a fraternity my freshman year and had a blast, but my grades suffered. After three semesters of academic probation and a lot of hard work through summer school and winter break classes, I got myself back into good standing.
I graduated in 2012 and got to walk across the stage to accept my diploma in front of friends and family. Most importantly, I got to do it in front of Gramom, on her birthday. I even got to write "Happy Birthday Gramom" on my graduation cap. It was a special moment, and one I still cherish very closely to this day.
The next 13 years brought plenty of ups and downs. There was one serious relationship, multiple jobs, a few different seasons of living with my parents, a few different chapters living in Santa Cruz, different apartments shared with my best friend Sean, fun trips and experiences with friends, family members and friends getting married, people moving into houses and having kids, and then, of course, COVID. It was a colorful 13-year period after college, and it helped shape a large part of the man I am today.
A major part of who I am today is the result of getting sober and jumping into AA with both feet. Getting sober on April 30, 2023 changed the trajectory of my life, and it eventually led me to my Amanda Joy, my beautiful Hummingbird. I have my life coach and AA angel, Jennifer Shannon, to thank for helping open that door.
Sober life has been different these past few years, but it has brought me closer to my family, closer to my best friends, and put me on a path that led me to my future wife and life partner. AJ came into my life unexpectedly, but from the first moment I became aware of her, I knew I felt differently about her. Just under two years later, she said yes to be my wife on my 38th birthday.
Through loving AJ, my life has expanded in the most beautiful ways. I have become a dog dad, gained a mother-in-law in Linda, a sibling-in-law in Shannon, kids-in-law in Christian and Brianna, and have become Pop Pop to Maya. Sobriety has given me so many gifts, but one of the greatest is the ability to look in the mirror and be proud of what I see on a daily basis. It has allowed me to show up for the people who have been cornerstones in my life story, and for that, I am deeply grateful.
It is truly hard to write an autobiography and include every important detail from 38 years of life, but that is a good problem to have. So many of you have had a special impact on my life at some point along the way, and I would not be at a place in my life where I could write a bio for my wedding page without each and every one of you.
Thank you for your love, support, and patience along the way. Thank you for helping shape the man I am today. And most of all, thank you for helping us celebrate this very special day.
I lost some of the most important people to me, early in life. My great Aunt Betty. My Great Granny Addy. Then the two men I loved most in the world, my dad and my mom's dad, were both gone before I was sixteen, ten months apart. Losing them cracked something open in me that took years, and a lot of healing, to tend to. In between those losses and alongside them, there were people who made me feel safe in ways I will never forget. Teachers who loved me when I needed it most. I am still in touch with them today. My cousin Carina, who was my person on my dad's side. Sleepovers and camping trips with the CampFire troop Shannon and I belonged to were staples of young life, and through all my school years, a rotation of friends came and went. A few have stayed to go the distance. Adam, Krista, Jason, and Aenoy have seen all sides of me, liked them or not, and weathered every storm without flinching. Shannon has been my ride or die since birth and as adults we have grown into a deep appreciation for each other. I am so grateful to have Shannon standing with us today.
Writing found me early and never let go. I have years and years of journals. It was one of the first loves I ever had, and one of the first things that attracted me to Noah. In middle school I started a column for the school newspaper called Dear Mandy. My dad, a master carpenter, built me a wooden box for people to drop their questions and suggestions into. That box will sit on our welcome table on November 1st. It is one of the few things his hands made that I still have.
My dad moved back to Texas when I was in 6th grade. After middle school, I changed. By freshman year of High School I had already lost myself. I stopped going to school. I did not want to be around people. I felt like too much, so being alone felt safer. I got asked to leave a number of schools and eventually landed in a self-study program after a run of expulsions. My dad died that same year in December of 1999 and I used that as an excuse to keep running. Fifteen and feeling completely fu**ed up.
From fifteen to twenty-one I was physically present and entirely somewhere else. Writing, singing, getting lost in a book, losing myself in music, those were the only places I felt like myself. Everything else was too big. I was hiding from things everyone around me could see but me, running from pain I did not yet know how to face or truly feel.
Some of the best people I have ever known found me during those challenging years in spite of myself. Stacie and Jimmy took me in, and along with Josh, Lindsay, and Robert, we made a family out of the chaos. They saw the worst of me and never left. Laura Duke, Momma Duke, came into my life when I dated her son Nick. She and I fell in love with each other, the way the best chosen family always happens. Accidentally and permanently. My birth family never left me either, they tried so hard to keep things together. I don't think they knew what to do with me for a while (I didn’t either), and it took time, honesty, and sobriety to repair what running had cost us. I am grateful we did. We stand here today… together.
Then came Brianna. I met her dad somewhere around nineteen, fell in love with his little girl, and never really let go. Through every chapter of my adult life she has been an anchor, my reason for getting through the tough times and never giving up. She grew up, found Christian, and gave us Maya. My little Mayitaa. Being Nani to that little angel is my whole heart. Watching my baby become a mother brings me a joy I do not have words for. Christian shares Noah's birthday of March 1st and Bree and I are both Scorpios. We absolutely match. I was always worried how the men I was dating would approach me having a daughter who is not mine by birth. Noah never missed a beat. We all have a relationship which I am constantly in awe of. The universe had a plan when it brought us all together.
I finally bottomed out at twenty-one. There were consequences, real and scary ones. When sobriety, outpatient rehab, community service, and therapy were offered instead of a prison sentence, I was willing. I got sober for good in August of 2007 and I have not looked back. The hardest days sober have always been easier and better than the best days when I was drinking.
Sobriety gave me everything I didn’t know I wanted. Everything I never thought I would have. A family, friends, a daughter, a dog! At three years sober I went back to school, got my AA degree, and eventually transferred to Portland State University in 2012. Living in Oregon… I found myself in a whole new way. I found the freedom to grow into myself. I started writing again, singing again. I started my own AA meetings. I found new friends and a love of adventures by myself. I got my first dog, George, who was my adventure buddy and whole world until he died in 2022.
From 2012 to 2022 I traveled the world for work and AA. I saw things I never dreamed of. Took a fifteen hour flight with my twelve year ride or die and bridesmaid Aenoy, who witnessed me trying to bring home an entire pack of stray dogs and very nearly threw me out the emergency exit over the Pacific. Those ten years were so full of life I could write about them for hours and still run out of paper. There are people from those years who shaped me into who I am and are no longer here. Chris Davis, Nikki Lovell, Robert Marks. Three of many who loved me, built me up, and are part of my chosen family here on earth. Thank you for loving me. I will see you again someday. 🖤
I moved back to California in early 2022, full circle back to the Bay, and grateful for it. I reconnected with old friends, had new adventures, and walked into a meeting one October evening where a man was sitting in the front row with a plan I knew nothing about.
I had kissed a lot of frogs before Noah. Let me tell you, the bad breath and swamp water were not worth it. But every wrong one taught me something, and every lesson brought me closer to knowing what I actually wanted. I spent many years trying to be chosen by people who were wrong for me. It was not until Noah chose me, quietly, intentionally, from the front row, and everything fell into place.
Today I am a cook, a Reiki Master, a writer, a crystal collector, and yes, a witch. A real one. I write my own spell books, do rituals in the woods, collect crystals, and have mantras and acronyms for days. I work a corporate job for the money and give my whole heart to helping people heal through food, touch, and energy work. I dream of traveling the world to understand how other cultures heal their people and sit with the medicine in the human collective.
I love elephants. I love tattoos. I love my big feelings and my even bigger heart. All the things that once felt like too much have turned out to be exactly enough.
And I have never been more myself than I am right now. I am so grateful to be sharing this version of myself with each of you and for each of you joining us on one of the most important days of our lives.
AJ:
Before There was Noah
I was born October 24th, 1984, on a Wednesday, going home to a house next to an old cemetery in New Almaden, California. If you know me at all, you already understand why that feels perfectly on brand. A lifelong love of Día de los Muertos, all things spooky, and the beautiful magic that lives between worlds started before I even realized it. We are, after all, getting married on November 1st. Some things are just written.
By six months old our family moved into my Grandpa's old house in Santa Clara. A house still surrounded by trees, parks, and nature. Growing up it was my mom, my dad, my sibling Shannon, and whatever animals we had managed to collect that week. Dogs, cats, birds, rabbits. Our own little farm in the middle of the city. There was a lot of love in that house. There were also fractures. As there are in most homes, in most families, and in most lives worth living, there was a lot of life early.
I was the kid who was always moving and talking. My mom will tell you I did not sleep for the first 14 months of life! Always singing. Always humming, loudly enough to get in trouble for it in the sixth grade. I loved ballet. I was a lead in the church choir. I wore every deep feeling I had, right on my sleeve. I loved being outside. Nature was my spirituality from a very young age. I talked to birds and animals like they were old friends, gave proper burials to the small creatures I found on my path, and felt most at home in the trees, the dirt, and the wild things. That connection has never been lost on me and has never left me.
When the Stars Aligned
Oftedahl Ever After: How Two Became One
It started, as the best love stories do, in the most unexpected place. It actually started long before either of us ever realized.
Our mothers, Susan and Linda, were born on the same day in 1948. Which means Noah and I technically entered this world on the same day as well. It would be many many years before we would finally meet, but once we did, it was as if the Sun finally felt the chill of the moon, and the moon felt the warmth of the Sun. The world eclipsed…for him at first, and her after.
In October 2023, AJ was asked to speak at an AA meeting, cool and confident, completely unaware that a guy named Noah being planted in the front row, in his usual seat. She said her hellos afterward, caught up with friends, and went on with her life — totally oblivious. Noah, on the other hand, had noticed everything.
Over the next few months, something curious kept happening. Wherever AJ showed up, Noah was somehow already there. Somehow always angling for the seat next to her. Always in her orbit. Always just happening to be around. Most people would call this stalking. Noah prefers the term intentional.
AJ remained gloriously clueless.
Just before Christmas 2023. AJ had been having one of her conversations with her adopted little brother Robert, (who passed away in 2021) and has a habit of visiting her as a a crow or raven — squawking when he has something to say. AJ had been asking him to send someone into her life. Someone like him.
That evening, AJ went to her normal Friday night meeting at Bill's, and Noah just happened to be the Speaker. She had never heard him talk before, but had been seeing him around so much lately, she looked forward to what his story told. Noah read something during his share, something which he had written at the beach that day. AJ, a writer herself, was intrigued. A man who wrote? Wildly attractive.
A group headed out for ice cream afterward and the two of them fell into easy conversation about tattoos (they both have plenty). Then Noah pulled up his pant leg to reveal a massive Raven tattooed on the back of his leg.
Goosebumps. Everywhere. She felt it was Robert, saying hi.
The next morning Noah showed up at a 6am meeting where AJ was speaking. He offered to help her with a catering job she had coming up and asked for her phone number. Still, somehow, AJ did not connect the dots. FInally AJ's friends Bethany and Aenoy (both on the Bride Squad) sat her down and spelled it out: he likes you. AJ denied it and went on about her busy life.
Eventually though, Noah made his move — a Presidents Day beach trip to his spot in Davenport. He picked her up, walked her to the car, opened her door (suspicious, AJ thought, for "just friends"), paid for lunch, and stopped at Marianne's for ice cream. They did everything two people on a date do, without either of them calling it a date.
On the drive home, Noah talked about how he approaches his recovery and life just like you do when building a house — which takes 14,000 bricks to build, and he build one brick at a time, one day at a time. For AJ, the little girl whose dad was a master carpenter, it landed somewhere deep.
He dropped her off. Said he'd see her soon. He meant it.
When AJ got sick that week, Noah showed up with soup, flowers, and a willingness to walk her dog.
He met her sibling Shannon two weeks later. And on March 1st, 2024 — at his birthday dinner, in front of his family — they shared a quick first kiss.
From that day forward, there hasn't been a single day without a conversation. Even with solo trips to Europe, living in different cities, even different states — they were never really far apart.
From May 2024 to December 2025 they lived up and down the West Coast together (and apart), from LA to Seattle, collecting more adventures than these pages could hold. They finally settled back in San Jose, California. just before Christmas 2025, right where they were meant to be.
Then on March 1st, 2026 — two years to the day from that first kiss — Noah brought AJ to Bean Hollow Beach, nestled between their beaches at Davenport and San Gregorio, and asked her to marry him.
The answer was never in question.
They have always moved like the ocean — ebbs and flows, listening to the universe, doing what felt right. Never rushed. Never forced. Just two people and 14,000 individual bricks laid together one at a time. Noah matches AJ’s calamity and chaos with calm, and she matches his passivity with passion and direction.
The yin to each other's yang, and a knowing we would not want to be lighting the path for anyone else.
One Sky,
Infinite Tomorrows
Growth has always been the through line for both of us. Not the kind that looks pretty from the outside, but the kind that costs something.
The kind that happens at 6am meetings, in therapy offices, on long drives up and down the coast, in the quiet moments after the hard conversations. We did not fall in love so much as we grew into it, one brick at a time.
We have held each other through career shifts and life changes, through grief and distance and all the ordinary magic of two people choosing each other every single day. From traveling to places we only dreamed of to building a home filled with inside jokes, big feelings, and a dog named Moose, we have learned that the journey means more when you have the right person in the passenger seat.
Standing here now, we look back at everything it took to get us to the same room, the same front row, the same yes. Two people who have each done the hard work of becoming themselves, finally becoming something together.
We are not two people moving through life alone anymore. We are one constellation, still a little spooky, still a little wild, and completely unwavering. This celebration is our way of inviting you to witness the moment it all becomes official.
One sky. Infinite tomorrows. 🖤