2027 marks ten years since Australia voted yes to same-sex marriage, an important move toward greater equality for queer folk down under. Yet the ban on gay marriage still applies in many countries around the world, including those you wouldn’t immediately expect, writes Liam Heitmann-Ryce-LeMercier.
On my 21st birthday, the Australian parliament legalised same-sex marriage and made major changes to the 2004 Marriage Act. December 2017 seemed fairly late in the game for granting same-sex couples the same constitutional rights that heterosexual unions had been permitted since the dawn of time.
The torch-bearer in this instance has always been the Netherlands, who welcomed the new millennium by legalising same-sex marriages as early as 2001. Other European countries followed suit, such as Belgium (2003) and Spain (2005), with
Norway and Sweden both voting yes in 2009. Australia’s move to recognise same-sex marriage over a decade and a half after the Netherlands, even, followed the tailwinds of other countries which also adopted same-sex marriage in 2017: Finland in March, Malta in September, and Germany in October.
That Germany’s recognition of same-sex marriage should be so closely linked to Australia’s, just two months apart, is quite fitting given my own very strong links to the two countries. As I write this, I am a gay Australian engaged to another male Australian, currently living in the German capital. I moved to Berlin with my partner in November 2025, positioning my one-year anniversary of life in a new city quite close to the decade anniversary of same-sex legalisation in the two countries I am now split between.
Fortunately, the decision on where I will marry my partner is determined by travel logistics and not legal barriers. Having grown up in England, much of my family and close friends live in the UK and can easily jet over to Europe for the ceremony. Meanwhile, an Aussie wedding by the sea is an appealing option and allows my partner’s extended family to attend, without having to drop thousands of dollars on airfares to Berlin.
However, in the time since we got engaged in July 2025, there have been a few unpleasant developments that vary from known opponents to unexpected antagonists.
“Only one type of family”
Though born in Australia, my partner has Italian citizenship. This is how we were able to relocate to Berlin, with his employers pulling him over to Europe without any legal hurdles. I simply tagged along, happy to return to Germany after living here on previous occasions, and doing so with a one-year Working Holiday Visa in my Aussie passport.
This visa is running out so we are in the process of applying for a Freedom of Movement visa, off the back of my partner’s European citizenship. This is proving more difficult than anticipated, which is not the case were it just a year or so previously. This is the unexpected antagonist.
As it stands, Australia and Germany have friendly bureaucratic relations. Indeed, it is a very common rite of passage for German teenagers to travel around Australia before they embark on university studies. Any brief stint in hostels across the country will confirm this; such was my experience, certainly, when I was travelling across the western and eastern coasts of Australia when I was 19.
In return, it’s really quite easy to get a visa to come to Germany – at least, a Working Holiday Visa, which has very few requirements. This, we figured, would make my current visa application easier, as an Australian living in Germany. Not so, as my application is still in contention.
There are other factors. I have lived and worked in Germany before, with a history of residency and employment linked to my border patrol profile. I have German heritage – the Heitmann of my surname originates from the northern part of the country, the name literally meaning ‘man of high plains’ – and I am, frankly, white. This is notable as the current shift toward far-right ideology in Germany, with neo-fascist party Alternative für Deutschland claiming landmark election victories this year, is driving pronounced anti-immigration sentiment in Germany.
The result of this is tighter restrictions of immigrants of any kind settling in Germany, not just the standard line of animosity toward those from non-white backgrounds. Where I would previously have tap-danced my way through a Freedom of Movement visa consultation as the fiancé of a European citizen, I am now suspended in a hoist of legal challenges between our immigration lawyer and the Landesamt für Einwanderung (immigration office).
Which all leads back to the question, Why don’t you just get married, then? To be clear, this is the goal and we will get around to it – ideally, without a gun to our heads if my visa gets denied. When people ask us when we plan to get married, they usually ask if we would get married in Italy given my partner’s background. And they are all, without fail, stunned when I say we can’t legally do that.
Italy is something of an outlier among Europe in its refusal to recognise same-sex marriage. This is due in large part to the country’s strong Catholic scaffolding and, partly, due to the premiership of far-right Fratelli d’Italia leader Giorgia Meloni. In power since 2022, her eagerness to uphold traditional family values has gifted us with some inspiring soundbites such as “there is only one type of family – the one formed by a man and a woman.”
This arms-crossed approach to same-sex marriage in Italy is relevant to Australia, as there are strong historical passages between the two countries. The Australian Bureau of Statistics reports that 163,326 people born in Italy reside down under, and over 1,108,364 Australians claim Italian ancestry. Many Australians hoping to say their wedding vows in front of family members from the old country aren’t able to do so today, and it’s not clear when Italy will follow the lead of its European neighbours on this front.
Where to tie the knot
Though a little late to the party, Australia’s affirmative vote on same-sex marriage in 2017 is surely worth celebrating. I still remember reading the news of this momentous change in legislation while at university in the UK and feeling a flush of amused relief, a pleased smirk to myself sitting at the library computer bank as I muttered inside my head, About time.
The option is there, to tie the knot down under, but I feel it may likely happen here in Europe. When exactly remains undetermined, as weddings are famously apt to bankrupt the couple entering into them. Given that we are barely a year into completely uprooting our lives to another side of the planet, my partner and I aren’t exactly awash with resources for a fancy ceremony.
As I say, at least the option is there, either on my new Berlin home turf or at the end of a long, long flight back to Melbourne. Italy, meanwhile, will remain a beloved holiday destination and not – at least for now – the site of a dream wedding under the Puglia sunshine.
