A Yes I Hold Tenderly

I think the part of my job that brings me the most joy is a very small moment.

It happens when a couple is talking to me about booking a wedding, and after a pause, sometimes a long one, they ask:

“Do y’all do gay weddings?”

There’s usually a tightness in their voice when they ask. Like they’ve rehearsed the question and are bracing for the answer.

And then there’s the moment after I respond.

Because my identity as a trans person lets them exhale.

I can hear it, the sigh of relief, the tension leaving their body once they realize they’re safe here. That this isn’t going to turn into a negotiation of their humanity. That they won’t have to explain themselves or justify their love or scan my face for signs of judgment.

That moment breaks my heart a little.

And it also fills it.

It breaks my heart because they even have to ask at all. Because the world taught them that this question is necessary.

But it fills my heart because, in that moment, I get to be someone who offers ease instead of fear. I get to offer a booking process that comes with genuine happiness for them, not tolerance, not politeness, not “we don’t mind,” but real joy.

I wish my job could be community service for marginalized communities.

I wish safety didn’t have to be proven and I wish love didn’t have to arrive holding its breath.

Until then, I’ll keep being someone they don’t have to brace themselves around.

And I’ll keep answering that question with my whole heart.