“So, which one of you is the bride?”

That’s the first thing an acquaintance asked me at a braai, shortly after my husband and I got engaged. What had been masked as a joke was actually a signal: it told me that it wasn’t safe to be my true self around them.

The quiet calculation of whether a space is safe is something almost every LGBTQIA+ person knows intimately. We do the calculation at family dinners, at work, at the gym. And, as I’ve come to understand deeply, we do it when planning one of the most significant days of our lives.

South Africa was the first country in Africa (and the fifth in the world) to legalise same-sex marriage in 2006. By 2022, 2,461 civil unions were registered here, nearly triple the number from a decade earlier (Dierks 2026). And yet a 2023 Ipsos survey found that 19% of South Africans still believe same-sex couples should have no legal recognition at all.

Which means that for many LGBTQIA+ couples, finding a marriage officer isn’t just something you tick off of the wedding To Do List at the last minute. It’s a stressful process that requires vetting.

Besides the stats and the fact that it’s great that LGBTQIA+ couples are now legally allowed to get married; many still opt not to. I’ve seen the trauma that these couples carry in terms of family dynamics – in fact, I’ve experienced these situations myself. Parents that don’t approve of the relationship, don’t want to attend the ceremony, or couples who are reluctant to post photos on social media of their special day to avoid public ridicule. It’s horrible to hide not only who you are, but also the person you choose to marry. 

Your wedding day is YOUR day and it deserves to be celebrated.

You already know the drill:

Check the website for the word “inclusive.” Scroll their Instagram counting same-sex couples. Read your enquiry email twice before sending. Listen for hesitation in the reply. Wait to hear the word “lifestyle.”

I know what that feels like. Not as a professional who’s been told about it. As a gay man who has lived it.

The hidden hurdle

Finding a marriage officer who’s truly pro-LGBTQIA+ is tricky enough. Finding a marriage officer who’s also equipped to handle the practical process of civil unions adds another layer of complexity. For international or mixed-nationality LGBTQIA+ couples, there are additional layers: apostille documents, Home Affairs registration windows, and the question of whether your South African marriage will be recognised back home.

“Inclusive” and “legally competent” are two separate things. You deserve both. 

Questions to ask your marriage officer

Before you commit to anyone:

• Do you know the legal requirements for civil unions specifically? Tolerance and expertise are two different things.
• How do you handle pronouns and titles? If they haven’t thought about it, you’ll feel it on the day.
• Will you write our ceremony from scratch? A template with your names swapped in is not personalised.

If any of those questions are met with hesitation or a change in warmth, that’s information. Trust it.

You’re safe here

If you’re a queer couple planning your wedding and you’re tired of the emotional labour of vetting every vendor before you can start,  you don’t have to do that with me.

I’m not just “totally fine” with LGBTQIA+ couples – I am one. I’ve stood where you’re standing. I know what it means to need the person at the front of the room to truly see you. And I know what it feels like when they do.

Your wedding should feel completely, unapologetically yours, from the first email to the moment you sign the register.

Come say hello. Book a consultation with me today.

– Jandré