Ten Years After Marriage Equality: A Personal Reflection on Love, Legacy, and Romulo

On June 26, 2015, the Supreme Court affirmed what so many of us already knew: that love is love, and it deserves the full protection and recognition of the law.

For me, that ruling didn’t mark the start of something new — it was a culmination. A confirmation of a journey that Romulo and I had been on for over 20 years.

Our story started long before the law caught up to us. And when it finally did, we embraced it with everything we had.

From Protest to Paperwork: The Civil Union Fight in Paterson

Romulo and I were proud to be the first same-sex domestic partners registered in our hometown of Paterson, New Jersey. When civil unions became legal in 2007, we were once again the first couple on the books.

We had fought hard to get there. This was a time when civil rights for LGBTQ+ people were debated — and too often dismissed — in city councils and courtrooms. We weren’t asking for special treatment. We were asking to be seen. Recognized. Protected.

Signing those civil union papers felt like progress. It gave us hospital visitation rights, legal protections, a place in the official record. It was validating — not just for us, but for every couple who had been told to stay silent or invisible.

But still, it wasn’t marriage.

A Surprise Proposal, a Surprise Wedding

When marriage equality became law in New Jersey in 2013, I knew I wanted to do something unforgettable.

So on Romulo’s birthday, I threw him a surprise party. Friends filled the room, the kind of people who had stood by us through decades — through joy, struggle, and change.

In front of everyone, I proposed. I asked him, right then and there, if he would marry me. He said yes.

And moments later, thanks to a dear friend who was also a judge, we were married — right then, right there. What began as a birthday party became a wedding and a reception all in one.

It was spontaneous, joyful, and absolutely perfect.

There was no aisle to walk down, no choreographed routine. Just love, community, and the simple truth that after 20 years together, we were finally — legally — husband and husband.

Marriage Meant Everything—Especially in the End

When Romulo died, it wasn’t the paperwork or ceremony I remembered most — it was how that legal recognition gave me the ability to protect his dignity and our life together.

Because of our marriage, I had:

• The legal authority to make decisions about his care
• The right to inherit without court battles or fear
• The protection every spouse should have, but for too long, LGBTQ+ people were denied

Marriage gave me peace in a time of grief. It gave me presence when I could have been erased. It gave our love the standing it always deserved.

Pride, Ten Years Later

Now, ten years after Obergefell, and as another Pride Month comes to a close, I reflect not only on the progress we’ve made — but on the fragility of that progress.

The road to marriage equality wasn’t easy. And the fight didn’t end with a court decision. We are living in a time when LGBTQ+ rights are once again under attack — from book bans to healthcare restrictions to anti-trans legislation.

Pride isn’t a finish line. It’s a promise. A protest. A legacy. And for me, it’s also a memory — of a birthday party, a wedding, and the kind of love that laws can’t fully define, but can finally respect.

What I Hope You’ll Remember

If you’re someone who has the right to marry the person you love — cherish it.

If you’re someone still waiting for full equality — keep fighting.

And if you’re someone like me, who loved deeply, publicly, and without apology — keep telling your story. Because stories like ours moved hearts, shifted laws, and made this world better.

Romulo and I didn’t just make history in our hometown. We built a life that deserved every legal recognition we finally received. And when I said goodbye to him, it mattered that I did so not as a “partner” or a “friend” — but as his husband.

Love should never have to wait for permission. If you believe in equality, keep speaking. Keep showing up. And above all, keep loving.