I Should Be Excited About My Wedding, but I’m Black, Gay, and Engaged to a Belizean

I should be basking in the joy of wedding planning. Instead, I find myself holding my breath and waiting. Waiting for a government ruling that could unravel my rights, waiting to see if my Belizean fiancée will be allowed to travel freely for our ceremony, waiting to feel like I belong in the country I was raised to love.

As I finalize RSVP counts and select floral arrangements, I brace for the possibility that the Supreme Court will dismantle Obergefell v. Hodges, the decision that made my marriage possible in the first place. As I coordinate flights and accommodations, I see families being torn apart at the border, wondering if my fiancée will face similar scrutiny. As I chat with my bridesmaids about wedding colors, a gnawing doubt lingers in my stomach: Should I just cancel the whole thing?

People ask why we don’t just get married in Belize. I love Belize. It’s where I plan to retire, where I feel most at peace, but unlike the U.S., marriage equality does not exist here. Gay marriage is merely tolerated if performed elsewhere. That “tolerance” offers no real protection. It’s not the same.

Like so many little girls, I once dreamed of my wedding. But I never could have imagined how racism, xenophobia, and homophobia would turn that dream into a nightmare.

Growing up in the Southern Bible Belt of South Carolina, I didn’t dare dream of being gay, even though I knew I was. My grandmother, an evangelist, warned that “people like that” would burn in hell. I listened. I internalized. I avoided relationships, threw myself into my education, and mapped out an escape route. If I couldn’t outrun damnation, maybe I could outrun the life I was living.

And I did. Ten years of schooling, a Ph.D. in marine ecology, a career that took me around the world, even a Wikipedia page with my name on it, and a government ruling that drew me out of the closet. I earned my seat at every table. I followed the blueprint. And yet, no degree, no accolade, no achievement can protect me from what I am: Black, gay, and marrying a foreigner. Three things the current administration has made clear it despises.

Votes, policies, misinformation, these things have the power to erase my dream wedding in an instant. Even if Obergefell isn’t overturned now, what about next year? Or the year after? And what will that mean for us then? Do I risk the safety of my fiancée and her family, making them vulnerable to the same inhumane border policies that have separated so many others? What do I do?

It’s not just LGBTQ+ and immigration rights that are under attack. With the new Executive Order enabling racial segregation under the guise of “freedom of association,” it’s clear that Black civil rights are on the chopping block too. If we don’t sound the alarm now, how long before marriage rights for Black people are questioned again? History reminds us that Black Americans couldn’t legally marry freely until long after emancipation and were not fully protected or recognized to have those rights until much later. If marriage rights for Black people were once conditional, what’s stopping them from being conditional again? If equality is something that can be granted and revoked, was it ever truly equality?

For the first time in a long time, I don’t have a plan. I feel helpless. So helpless that I brushed the dust off my fingers and wrote this blog, after not writing for almost a year. Because I need support. I need to believe that everything will be okay. That my wedding won’t be ruined. That we will be safe. That love will win.

So I wait with bated breath. Making plans, fighting back tears, and holding onto hope for the day I say, "I do."

If this resonates with you, I’d love to hear your thoughts. Share your story, leave a comment, or pass this along. Because love should never be a question mark.