What’s really changed a year on from the same-sex marriage ‘yes’ vote? A lot, but also not much

Some opponents of same-sex marriage still believe there’s a secret gay agenda behind the campaign for change. Truth be told, there is.

There’s a certain sad irony about so desperately wanting to say a word and then, when finally able to, feeling an occasional fear to utter it.

But such is the case with “husband”, which since April when we wed in front of 108 family and friends is how I’ve been able to describe the love of my life.

When Rob proposed to me in late 2016, same-sex marriage wasn’t remotely on the radar.

It was six months before momentum suddenly soared and reached fever pitch and a postal plebiscite was announced, and more than 12 months prior to the resounding results of it were announced.

And so, we began planning our wedding day in Queenstown in New Zealand, a country where unions like ours have been recognised since 2013 — the closest place that allowed us legal acknowledgment.

It was an unusually bittersweet process.

Over several months, I found myself cycling from deliriously overjoyed to depressingly bitter as I researched colour themes, did the sums on hiring a helicopter and tried to pick which song Delta Goodrem would sing for our first dance.

We were unspeakably thrilled by the prospect of sharing our day with the people we adore — and in such spectacular surrounds.

But there was a pang of sadness that we couldn’t do all of this at home, in the country we love.

People celebrate the announcement of the yes result a year ago. Picture: Jason Edwards

When it became apparent that change was on the horizon, and Australia said yes to love, we’d paid too many non-refundable deposits and so we pushed ahead with our destination nuptials.

It was wonderful.

The day was everything we had imagined, full of affection and adoration, touching speeches, a tear-jerking first dance and a room overflowing with love.

And while Delta came down with a severe case of laryngitis two days before, our band absolutely nailed a rendition of Roberta Flacks’ First Time Ever I Saw Your Face.

Shannon Molloy's wedding day in Queenstown, New Zealand.

On Wednesday, or ‘Yes Day’ as I dubbed it, someone asked what I thought had changed since marriage equality was achieved.

The simplest answer is this — so much, and yet very little.

When we stopped off the plane after our honeymoon in May, Australian law instantly recognised our marriage.

We enjoy the same legal protections and status as any other happily (or otherwise) wed couple.

That, as well as being married in general, feels so wonderful. It gives an additional sense of security to our already strong relationship.

We already knew we were travelling down a very long and exciting path together, but marriage gave us a clearer view of the destination.

That’s what has changed.

The doors to an important and wonderful institution have been opened and this thing so many have fought for can now be enjoyed.

When it comes to change, that is pretty monumental. Not too long ago, I never thought I’d see it.

Shannon Molloy's wedding day in Queenstown, New Zealand.

Shannon Molloy's wedding day in Queenstown, New Zealand.

And then, I catch myself lowering my voice to a whisper when I talk about my “husband” in certain public places, like on the train or at the pub.

I cringe with shame when I deliberately revert to “partner” while talking to the plumber about who’ll be home to let him in.

There’s still a lingering sense of danger. In the wrong setting, it could be unsafe for me to completely enjoy the fantastic change we’ve seen.

We’ve come so far but we still have some way to go.

A year on from the yes result, what’s changed? A lot, but also not much.

On Wednesday, news.com.au posted a lovely little video to its Facebook page of people celebrating the momentous yes result 12 months earlier.

It was a pretty simple acknowledgment of the enormity of that day — a fitting way to cover one of modern Australian history’s most significant social reforms.

As I scrolled through the comments, I felt that fear and sadness return.

Among the many joyful and positive remarks left by people, there were countless attacking either the disgusting nature of the change or harping on about how it’s a slippery slope to the real “gay agenda”.

Many opponents of same-sex marriage still believe the change masks a secret gay agenda — and they’re right. Picture: Lyndon Mechielsen

On that latter point, the critics are right.

Same-sex marriage isn’t where the battle ends for people like me, I’m afraid to say, because there is another agenda that we’re yet to achieve.

It’s not to force boys to wear dresses to school. It’s not to allow people to marry dogs or the Sydney Harbour Bridge. There’s no plot to make the unicorn Australia’s national animal.

Want to know what it is?

The secret gay agenda is to one day be able to say the word “husband” on the train, at the pub, in front of the tradie or in my regional Queensland home town without fear of being bashed or verbally abused.

That’s all.

Although, if you’re open to that unicorn idea, let’s talk.