Embedded Files
What It Meant to Get Married as a Gay Man in 2014
What It Meant to Get Married as a Gay Man in 2014
By Sean Champagne
Published: August 3, 2025
Last Updated: April 4, 2026
Reading Time: 7 minutes
Tags: Gay Marriage, LGBTQ+ Weddings, Personal Story, Elopements, Wedding Perspective
We didn’t grow up planning our wedding.
That’s the first thing.
There was no childhood version of it for me.
No Pinterest board.
No vague expectation of “one day.”
No cultural script I had been rehearsing since I was ten years old.
So when it actually became possible—legally possible—it didn’t feel like stepping into something familiar.
It felt like stepping into something… newly unlocked.
Raven and I met in September 2009.
On Craigslist.
Missed connections.
In Bellingham, Washington.
Which is objectively hilarious.
Not a dating app.
Not mutual friends.
Not a party.
A “missed connection.”
Which already tells you everything about the era.
We started dating January 26, 2010.
I was 18. He was 19.
And from there, it was… real life.
We:
adopted two dachshunds (Hansel and Wimbledon)
moved from Bellingham to Seattle
finished college together
worked full time
bought a condo at 20 and 21
We built a life before marriage was even an option.
So by the time it was an option…
Marriage didn’t feel like the beginning of something.
It felt like:
a formal acknowledgment of something that already existed
Timing Matters More Than People Realize
Timing Matters More Than People Realize
We got married January 27, 2014.
Gay marriage had just been legalized in the United States.
Like—just.
That context changes everything.
It wasn’t casual.
It wasn’t “we’ll get to it eventually.”
It felt immediate.
And instead of doing it in the U.S., we went to Stockholm.
Partly because of Raven’s family—his dad’s side is Swedish, his mom’s German.
We went to Sweden as an ode to that, and also visited Germany to see his mother’s side.
But also because it felt intentional.
If we were going to do this—
we weren’t going to do it halfway.
It was my first time in Europe.
Snowing.
Quiet.
Cold in that cinematic, still kind of way.
We got married at the Grand Hôtel Stockholm.
Photographed by Erika Gerdemark.
And the whole thing was… simple.
No chaos.
No production.
No 200-person guest list.
No logistical sprawl.
Just:
us
the moment
and a very clear understanding that this wasn’t something we were taking for granted
There Was No “Right Way”
There Was No “Right Way”
That’s the part people don’t always understand about gay weddings—especially then.
There was no template.
We weren’t choosing between:
rustic vs modern
barn vs ballroom
plated vs buffet
We were choosing:
what does this even look like?
And that’s actually a gift.
Even if it doesn’t feel like one at first.
Because when there’s no default—
you don’t accidentally fall into something that isn’t you.
What I Remember Most
What I Remember Most
Not the logistics.
Not the planning.
Not even most of the details.
I remember how contained it felt.
There was no confusion.
No one asking:
“where are we going?”
“what time is it?”
“what’s next?”
Because there wasn’t that much to manage.
And now—after going to a lot of weddings—I realize:
that clarity is what made it feel so good
What Didn’t Exist Then (That Should Have)
What Didn’t Exist Then (That Should Have)
If I’m being honest, there’s one thing we didn’t have—
because it didn’t really exist in a clean way yet.
A website.
Not a clunky platform.
Not something you had to log into and manage.
But a simple, intentional place where:
the story lived
the photos lived
the moment lived
Because right now?
Those photos are scattered.
The memory exists—but not in one place.
And that’s a miss.
What I Would Do Now
What I Would Do Now
If I were getting married today, I’d do two things:
1. A Pre-Wedding Site
1. A Pre-Wedding Site
One link.
Clear details.
No confusion.
2. A Post-Wedding Site
2. A Post-Wedding Site
This is the part people skip.
And they shouldn’t.
Because after it’s over—
that’s what you actually keep.
A place where:
the story is told
the photos are curated
people who weren’t there can feel it
Not buried in a camera roll.
Not lost in texts.
Something that actually lives.
Why This Still Matters
Why This Still Matters
Gay marriage is more normalized now.
Which is a good thing.
But I do think something subtle gets lost when something becomes normalized:
the intentionality
Back then, we knew this wasn’t guaranteed.
We knew this wasn’t something generations before us got to do.
So we made decisions more carefully.
And that’s still worth holding onto.
Not the struggle.
Just the awareness.
Final Thought
Final Thought
Getting married in 2014 didn’t feel like following a tradition.
It felt like creating one.
And if I could go back and add one thing—
it wouldn’t be bigger.
It wouldn’t be more elaborate.
It would just be:
a clean, permanent place where that moment lives
That’s the whole idea behind His & His Forever.
Not more.
Just… something that lasts.
Recommended Articles
Recommended Articles
Page updated
Google Sites
Report abuse