The Hot Priest's Wedding Speech

And what's so great about it

Love is awful. It’s awful. It’s painful. It’s frightening. It makes you doubt yourself, judge yourself, distance yourself from the other people in your life. It makes you selfish. It makes you creepy, makes you obsessed with your hair, makes you cruel, makes you say and do things you never thought you would do.

It’s all any of us want, and it’s hell when we get there. So no wonder it’s something we don’t want to do on our own. I was taught if we’re born with love then life is about choosing the right place to put it. People talk about that a lot, feeling right, when it feels right, it’s easy. But I’m not sure that’s true. It takes strength to know what’s right. And love isn’t something that weak people do. Being a romantic takes a hell of a lot of hope. I think what they mean is, when you find somebody that you love, it feels like hope.

~Hot Priest, Fleabag S02E06 | source

source

Ah, the wedding speech by the hot priest in Fleabag—that unforgettable moment that’s somehow equal parts funny, vulnerable, and quietly profound. If you’ve seen the show, you know the "hot priest" isn’t just a character dropped in to stir up Fleabag’s messy life. He’s so much more than that. He’s magnetic, deeply conflicted, and completely open in ways that make him impossible to forget. And his wedding speech? It’s not just another quirky TV moment; it somehow captures the very essence of love—raw, awkward, and terrifyingly real.

What makes this speech so powerful is its lack of polish. It’s not a grand, sweeping monologue like you might find in a rom-com. It’s disjointed, hesitant, even clumsy at times—exactly what you’d expect from someone who’s grappling with his own contradictions. Here’s a man who’s built his life on restraint and devotion, standing there and trying to explain something as messy and unpredictable as love. And the result? It’s oddly perfect.

It starts with a stumble. “I think I’m supposed to say something about love,” he says, clearly uncomfortable but determined to go on. There’s a vulnerability in the way he delivers it, a sense that he’s not just speaking to the room but wrestling with his own feelings. This is a man who’s devoted himself to God’s love, standing at a wedding and trying to articulate the chaos of human love. He doesn’t have all the answers—he’s as flawed and uncertain as the rest of us—and that’s exactly why his words land so deeply.

And then he says it: “Love is awful.” It’s a blunt, jarring statement, and yet it’s painfully true. Love is awful. It’s exposing and terrifying, making you feel small and desperate and completely at the mercy of someone else. But the way he says it, it’s not a warning to avoid love—it’s an acknowledgment of its cost. Because the very things that make love awful are also what make it beautiful.

“It’s all we have,” he continues. And that’s the heart of it, isn’t it? Love is awful, yes, but it’s also essential. It’s what keeps us connected, what gives our lives meaning even when everything else feels uncertain. The speech doesn’t try to sugarcoat love or turn it into some perfect fantasy. Instead, it accepts love for what it is—a gamble, a mess, a thing that can break you and still be worth it.

What makes this moment even more unforgettable is Andrew Scott’s delivery. He doesn’t recite the speech like a practiced script. He lets it tumble out, pausing, stumbling, making it feel real. You see the conflict in his face, the way he’s trying to make sense of his own feelings as he speaks. There’s humor, yes, but also this deep, quiet pain. You can tell he’s not just talking about the bride and groom—he’s talking to Fleabag. Maybe even to himself.

That’s what makes this speech resonate. It doesn’t try to simplify love or wrap it up neatly. It embraces the mess, the contradictions, the discomfort. It’s for anyone who’s ever been unsure about love but still can’t help chasing it. For anyone who’s been burned by it but can’t imagine life without it. It’s a reminder that while love isn’t easy—or even always kind—it’s what makes life bearable, and sometimes extraordinary.

In the end, the hot priest’s speech isn’t just about romantic love. It’s about being human. Love is awful, yes, but it’s also everything. And maybe that’s why it stays with you—because it doesn’t pretend to have all the answers. It just tells the truth.