I was working at a nightclub on Bourbon Street when I stepped into the back room. He was there, sitting at a desk, filling out a new-hire form. In that instant, it felt like time stopped. The pulsing bass from the dance floor faded into silence, and all I could hear was my own heartbeat. I remember the scent of the room, the way the light hit his face, even the clothes we were wearing. I couldn’t look away, frozen as if this moment had been waiting for me my entire life. I knew, right then, that this was him—the person I had prayed for. People often ask if it was love at first sight. My answer is always the same: absolutely.
It was about a year after Hurricane Katrina, and New Orleans was slowly piecing itself back together. I was still shaken by the storm, by everything it had taken from the city and its people, so having him in my life brought an unexpected comfort. He was my unique rose. But even after finding each other, we had so much growing to do. Our twenties were wild—New Orleans never sleeps, and neither did we. Nights at the club blurred into sunrises, and we’d escape the city just like characters from an Anne Rice novel, throwing ourselves into his old Volvo wagon and driving out of the French Quarter.
Some mornings we’d stroll through Audubon Park, climb trees, or spend hours flying kites on the levee along the Mississippi River. Afterward, he’d take me to the railroad tracks by the river bend, where we’d smash coins under the train wheels for fun. Then he’d pull out a worn copy of The Little Prince, one of his favorites, and read: “There may be millions of roses in the world, but you’re my only one, unique rose.” I would melt into the grass, tears streaming as I listened. In those moments, I knew he was the boy I wanted to spend my life with.
Once we grew up a little and cleaned up our act, nothing could stop us. Douglas was determined to make a difference in the world, especially helping people with histories of substance abuse. At first, local universities rejected his applications. The community college offered admission but pushed him toward an air-conditioning program, insisting medical school was too ambitious. But he persevered. Eventually, he earned a full scholarship to Loyola University, climbed Mount Kilimanjaro to raise funds for scientific instruments in New Orleans classrooms, and went on to graduate from LSU New Orleans School of Medicine. Today, he’s a psychiatry resident, practicing a mind-and-body approach to substance abuse.
We had no idea what 2015 would bring. In December 2014, he asked me to marry him. We had shared dreams and plans, but nothing could have prepared us for the whirlwind that followed. In April, we bought our first home. In June, the Supreme Court ruled in favor of marriage equality, and on August 1st, 2015, we became the first gay couple married in Jackson Square, right in the heart of the French Quarter. By November, our first daughter was born. The joy felt surreal. Our dream of becoming dads seemed impossible at first; we were told adoption could take five to seven years as a gay couple. Amazingly, we waited only three and a half weeks.
Even in that short span, it was an emotional rollercoaster. Our baby girl was born prematurely at 30 weeks and had to stay in the NICU. The original adoptive family backed out, leaving her without a home. Then the birth mother considered keeping her—and did, for four days. I was an emotional wreck, crying without pause, while Douglas held me, letting me lean on him. Those four days tested us but also strengthened our bond immeasurably. And then, finally, the birth mother changed her mind. Our baby girl was ours.
We ran to Target, brimming with excitement and nerves, and spent the next month preparing her nursery. After weeks of gaining strength in the NICU, she came home on December 4th. That Christmas was unlike any other; she became the center of our world, the heartbeat of our family. Every decision since has been made with her and our family in mind.
For ten years, I was the general manager of a French Quarter restaurant. About a year and a half after adopting our first daughter, our second daughter was born, and I became a stay-at-home dad. Douglas and I both knew one of us needed to be home, and this felt like my calling. Shortly after, I started a blog, sharing lessons from life and parenthood, writing about insecurities and the journey of embracing who I am. Being a family with two dads draws attention—sometimes innocent curiosity, sometimes judgment—but I see it as a teaching moment. We show others that love and family come in many forms.
Not everyone is welcoming. Once, a family at a restaurant made it clear they disapproved of us. The sting of judgment is sometimes unavoidable, but it reminds me why I share our story. The silence, the sideways glances—they reinforce the need for visibility and understanding. Even some of our own family hasn’t been supportive, but love surrounds us from those who matter, and that has made all the difference.
My mother has been unwavering, loving and defending us, and her strength inspires me. Douglas and I love our children fiercely, just like any other parents. We sit around the dinner table sharing our day, walk the dog, ride scooters down the sidewalk, and sometimes laugh at the small mishaps—like realizing our baby is wearing mismatched shoes. Most importantly, we laugh together, and we embrace the beauty of our imperfect, wonderful family.
Our mission is to broaden the narrow view of the American family. Douglas and I have been together thirteen years, living a life that shows our children love, kindness, and acceptance. We teach them that being different is beautiful, that respect matters even when opinions differ. This inspired me to write a children’s book, Addie Underwater, to help young readers understand and celebrate diverse families. Our journey is beautiful, and our gratitude is immense. The love of our girls makes it easy to overlook judgment from strangers and ignorance from society.
We’ve learned that embracing each other fully, for who we are and all we bring to the world, is essential. Teaching our children compassion and acceptance is our daily purpose. We hope to lead by example, showing that love, understanding, and resilience are the true foundation of family. Life may be divisive and challenging, but in our home, love guides every step, every choice, and every heart.
