Writer and photographer Gabrielle has put pen to paper on her and her Shannen’s blissful ceremony day they hardly believed they would ever come. Conquering all types of adversity to have this amount of giggles in the banging style of a silk wrap around dress and tuxedo, respectively, these two are going to help you see the bit where you look at each and say forever is the most important part. And then party soooooon. Gabrielle writes so utterly beautifully about it all, so without further a due we shall pass you over!

ALL IMAGES by one of our faves JOASIS PHOTOGRAPHY

For better or for worse

When we fell in love it was across continents, over an ocean and despite my life-threatening illness—that is to say my spouse, Shannen and I, have been no strangers to adversity. As a Queer, international couple we’ve been determined to stay together through whatever obstacles we might encounter, including a treacherous, unforeseen pandemic. I believe we are the stuff wedding vows are made of. Though our 2020 wedding was not what we planned, our micro-ceremony became more meaningful than we could have imagined.

For richer or for poorer

I met my spouse online in May 2017, and we fell in love over a year spent long-distance—Shannen in the UK living their life and I, Gabrielle, in the states receiving an immune-therapy that had the power to resuscitate my own. When I proposed on top of a mountain under a clear January sky in the early days of 2020, there was no hint of clouds gathering at the edges of our golden sunrise. We booked our wedding for November 21st, 2020. By mid-April, Shannen, manager of weddings and events at the award-winning Greenwoods Hotel, and I had to admit that our wedding date, though seemingly far-off, was no longer viable as the coronavirus pandemic continued to sweep across nations, dividing families, and keeping doors shuttered wherever necessary. When the first UK lockdown was announced we were mere days away from giving notice—as a student in the UK my visa would no longer get us to our intended wedding day. We spent the next few weeks in bed with the virus and the next several months anxiously awaiting the reopening of essential services, including those associated with civil ceremonies and immigration. All we wanted was to weather the storm together.

In sickness and in health

With our big, fabulous wedding day out of reach, we focused on our needs: we couldn’t be separated in the middle of a pandemic. I haven’t seen my family in over a year and while that has been its own challenge, Shannen and I made a vow early in our relationship to never replicate our first year—in which we spent a total of 65 days in the same country and the other 300 an ocean apart. With this promise in mind we did all we could to remain together, including taking the first available post-lockdown date at Hammersmith and Fulham Registry Office to declare our intent to marry. While waiting on our notice to pass inspection, we faced some push-back from our family—if we signed our papers would it render our eventual wedding day meaningless? I was shocked and somewhat outraged by this response, but did my best to bridge the cultural divide. While the heart of an American ceremony is in the often custom vows exchanged before family and friends, British civil ceremonies hinge upon the word of the Registrar. Our desire was always to have a celebrant-led ceremony on our wedding day. We chose this as an ode to the countless marriages that UK and US law never saw fit to recognize and those in the LGBTQ+ community who fought for us and those who are still fighting around the world. Without marriage equality, Shannen and I would have been separated mid-pandemic and so we are as immeasurably grateful for the right to a spousal visa as we are certain that there is no law that will ever be able to put into words the love we share.

Let no one separate

It was a beautiful October day, despite the rain. Our photographer, Jo of Joasis Photography, remarked that the rain ceased only for us—the sun broke through over the Thames just as we exited the Clockwork Building where we had our strange, brief ceremony—reciting words we didn’t write, said first by a man we didn’t know—who awkwardly, but endearingly, stood two meters apart from us as Shannen and I held hands. We left that building feeling no more or less married than when we went in, but Jo was right, from the moment the sun glinted off her camera lens, it was all about us! Jo’s arrival was a last-minute surprise for Shannen after we admitted that the ceremony meant something to us—it was a first step down an extended aisle leading us to our wedding day and beyond. Shannen wore a black satin-lapel tuxedo jacket and trousers with a crisp white shirt—bow-tie left artfully undone—by Little Black Tux. I chose my favorite white dress from ASOS and paired it with my mother’s black pearls—a gift from my father after they learned they were expecting—and my favorite heels from Irregular Choice. I chose my earrings from my jewelry box on the day and we did our own hair and makeup.

The day ended at The Blue Boat where we had an unforgettable meal served by an incredible, inviting staff who welcomed us with champagne. On our way back home, we realized I had forgotten my bouquet of dried flowers. It now sits proudly on our dresser next to a framed photograph of us with our friends and future bridesmaids, Amy and Kate, as we all laugh together despite a year synonymous with sorrow. In the photo I see us living despite the odds and inseparable, despite any threat of distance. When our wedding day eventually finds its us, either later this year, or the next, I cannot say for certain that our custom ceremony, built upon the words and experiences particular to us as a couple, will lead us to feel any more or less married than we already do. If marriage is a ceremony, then we have stood upon it together and if marriage is the road that comes together under your feet as you walk step by step through the trials and tribulations of life, then I cannot wait to walk with my wife to our wedding day and beyond.