Wedding photos by Alex Tome
I did not expect to feel a lump in my throat as my partner of 18 years, Keith, and I were getting married on the rooftop of a hotel in Chiado overlooking the terracotta roofs of Lisbon in Portugal. After all, we had worked with the wedding celebrant on the ceremony script for weeks, and we had submitted our vows 30 days before the big day. I thought I had fully processed it.
What caught me off guard was a heading in the script that we had no input on—two simple words: Legal Ceremony. I had seen weddings in the United States where the marriage license was processed separately at City Hall, with the more romantic symbolic union done elsewhere. In the back of my mind, I assumed we would be doing something similar. But Portugal does things differently.
Sealing it with a kiss (November 2025)
The ceremony was scheduled for 11 am, though we could not start on time because the registrar from the Lisbon Civil Registry Office was running late. There were apologies about “Portuguese time,” which we said we had no problem with, being used to “Filipino time.” In truth, the delay was a gift. The weather had been unpredictable that morning, and a thin veil of cloud briefly opened into light showers. Just as the registrar appeared, the skies cleared, revealing perfect light for our blue and maroon suits.
With the Portuguese registrar Inocencio Rodrigues da Cruz, his translator Alexandra Sigorelho, and wedding celebrant Sam Gardner
Assisted by a translator, the registrar began the legal ceremony by validating our identities using the passports and birth certificates we had submitted months prior. That part I expected. What surprised me was when he asked if anyone had objections—even though the only other people there were the photographer, the videographer and his assistant, and Sam, our celebrant. Then, contrary to all expectations, he began offering advice on how married couples should behave toward each other, clearly intended for those at the beginning of their journey. “Never go to bed back to back,” he said. I briefly thought, “Try doing that when you’re both in your 60s and your backs are acting up,” but I kept quiet.
What moved me most came next. The registrar ended the legal ceremony by sharing two poems on love by his favorite Portuguese poets. This—from a civil servant I had expected to be largely procedural. The lump in my throat came even before he read them. Seeing how seriously this representative of a foreign country treated our same-sex marriage, despite us not being citizens, made real the weight of what Keith and I were undertaking. This, as they say, was it.
First Christmas together as a couple (2007)
When same-sex marriage was recognized nationwide in the US more than 10 years ago, we cheered for our friends there. We watched wedding videos on YouTube, inspired by their creativity, audacity, and romance. Some of our friends traveled abroad to marry. But we never thought it was for us. The main reason was practical: Marriage between same-sex couples has no legal recognition in the Philippines. It would not affect our ability to transfer property, assert hospital visitation rights, or make decisions for each other. Without legal recognition, it felt symbolic rather than substantive. We always said that if same-sex unions were legalized at home, we would be first in line at City Hall.
But over the last few years, our feelings began to shift. I was turning 60, preparing to retire from corporate life, and Keith and I were planning a long overdue vacation. We started asking what we could do overseas. At first, the conversation was light: Wouldn’t it be nice to get married in Central Park? We could do it on November 10 so we don’t have to remember another anniversary. Imagine the photos in the fall foliage. And perhaps, even in our 60s, we would still look good enough to pull it off. If we waited in the Philippines—now the only country in the world without divorce outside the Vatican—we might be in our 80s and still not married.
In recent years, there have been small signs of change. In 2020, the Insurance Commission ruled that same-sex partners may be named as life insurance beneficiaries. In 2023, Quezon City institutionalized a Right to Care Card to simplify powers of attorney for medical decisions. Nothing yet like marriage, but important beginnings.
Since 2014, I have been public about my relationship with Keith. What began as a simple acknowledgment evolved into a mission—to show younger LGBTQ+ professionals that it is possible to love someone openly, build a successful corporate career, and maintain strong relationships with colleagues, friends, and family. Perhaps because when I was growing up, there was no example to look to. After 18 years together, I realized that getting married, even outside the country, was the next logical step.
What began as a simple acknowledgment evolved into a mission—to show younger LGBTQ+ professionals that it is possible to love someone openly, build a successful corporate career, and maintain strong relationships with colleagues, friends, and family
We originally looked at New York, but when the US elected an administration whose policies were not welcoming to people like us, we abandoned that idea. We did not want to celebrate in a place that felt hostile. We looked for countries that allowed same-sex marriage without residency requirements. Portugal appeared at the top of the list. Photos of Lisbon’s red-orange rooftops drew us in, but discovering that anti-discrimination based on sexual orientation is protected in Portugal’s constitution made it feel meant to be.
We worked with a company called Somewhere Crazy, specializing in destination elopements. They asked us to complete a template about our relationship—a set of questions that someone just starting out might find easier to answer. After 18 years, it was amusing, but also meaningful. We worked with our officiant, Sam Gardner, to develop the ceremony script. Among the symbolic options, we chose a hand-binding ritual—the origin of “tying the knot”—using maroon and blue ribbons to match our suits and contrasting neckties.
Sam asked us to submit our vows one month in advance and had them printed to place in a keepsake box along with messages from our friends. She said she always prints the vows for every couple—in her experience, no one ever remembers what they want to say once the moment arrives. At work, I always prided myself on speaking without notes, but this time, it felt more important to say the exact words I had written.
Walking the streets of Lisbon for the photographer
When Keith read his vows and I heard his voice break, I knew reading mine was the right decision. Through the entire ceremony, I experienced a kind of hyper-reality. Even earlier, as we walked through the streets of Lisbon followed by the photographer, it felt surreal. We are not used to expressing affection publicly, but it was what we had signed up for—and what, deep down, we wanted.
At the end of the ceremony, the registrar returned with Marriage Record No. 6839 for the year 2025, issued by the Lisbon Civil Registry Office. It states that we were legally married in Portugal on November 10, 2025, at 11 am, by mutual consent, with our identities verified and witnessed. Days later, the European Union’s highest court ruled that such marriages must be recognized across the bloc. We were undeniably, legally married.
As I said in my vows, I know this marriage does not carry legal weight in the Philippines. But it adds meaning to an 18-year union and makes public what Keith and I have long intended for each other. Our families respect our relationship, and we believe they will support us where it matters. Still, we will pursue whatever legal protections are available—through powers of attorney, wills naming non-compulsory heirs, and measures like Quezon City’s Right to Care Card.
Yes, love is love. But a little bit of law on our side is always welcome.
I’ll close with part of what I read to Keith on our wedding day. (Our full vows and ceremony script are available through the link to my blog post: https://mydeepfriedtruth.com/2025/11/11/the-wedding-script-that-told-our-story/)
“Eighteen years ago, on November 10, we began this journey together. I never imagined that one day we would stand here, in a place that recognizes what our own country still cannot… I love you—and I always will.”
Marriage matters. Words matter. And I hope to live up to these words in the years ahead.
