Wilderpines Elopements

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A call to elope: Queer love and the allure of an intimate wedding

A THOUGHT PIECE

ON WHAT IT IS TO BE QUEER & WHAT IT IS TO ELOPE

AND WHY IT JUST MAKES SENSE (TO ME)

I’ll begin by introducing myself: I’m Ashton Jack, and I’m a gay transgender man. I came out at the age of 26, a few years into my photography career. Throughout the years, including before my transition, I’ve identified at some point or another as every letter of LGBTQ.

As an adventure elopement photographer and former traditional-wedding photographer, I’ve thought a lot about marriage, about love, and about relationships. Having worked in the wedding industry for several years now, photographing large traditional weddings and then niching down to only small intimate elopements, as well as having gone through the planning of a large traditional wedding myself: a marriage then ultimately a divorce—it’s safe to say I’ve thought about weddings quite a lot.

I’ve also noticed a few things along the way.

A LOT of the couples who end up working with me or wanting to elope are queer.

Yes, I’m out as queer—though even when I identified as cis and heterosexual (or at least presented as such in my marriage), I noticed a lot of eloping couples were queer.

And of the folks who do, a lot of them have expressed a bit of their why to me—why they’re trading in the traditional wedding for an elopement. In a few weeks, I’ll be photographing a lesbian couple who has asked me not to share photos from their elopement that show their faces because one of the brides isn’t out to her family. I just recently photographed another lesbian couple who repeatedly expressed to me how important privacy was to them, making SURE no one was around to witness their ceremony, and even asked the officiant to step away while they shared their handwritten vows with one another in front of a rushing waterfall.

Elopements provide a safe space for couples, and especially queer couples, on their wedding day.

A safe space to feel like they can truly be themselves without reservation, without judgement, without an audience. I know a lot of queer couples are uncomfortable with PDA, even if at home or in private they’re actually rather affectionate with one another. Though, think about it: if you’re on a lonesome mountaintop with not another soul in sight (except perhaps a photographer you trust wholeheartedly), you can regain that familiar kind of privacy as if you’re at home on the couch.

It’s difficult to talk about, honestly. It’s heartbreaking to me that it’s there’s often a visible difference when I watch my queer couples on their wedding days, who often express some degree of reservation about simply existing in this space, at least in the beginning before they begin to relax, versus watching my cis-het couples who hug and kiss and tickle each other with abandon, even if passersby are watching.

But the focus here is on the good, that welcoming space that an elopement can and DOES offer.

Whatever you’re bringing with you—discomfort, hesitation, shame, loss, fear, anxiety, heartbreak, trauma, emotional baggage—you can and should be able to leave it at the door on your wedding day.

But aside from the more traumatic or melancholy reasons a queer couple might wish to elope, I think about the appeal of what an elopement represents to a queer couple looking to get married, and how the two seem to go hand in hand: queerness and eloping.

Deviating from the norm: the norm being the traditional wedding, with its bouquet toss, and the cutting of the cake, something borrowed, something blue. White gowns and tuxedo suits. Or perhaps, similarly, the sacred tradition of a union between a man and a woman under God. I mention all of this not as jest or mockery of old traditions, but of the breaking of such norms as a wonderful thing that I love to celebrate: a thing of pride. To stand firm in one’s convictions, to be who you are no matter what others might say or think. Sure, the “courage” associated with eloping might not quite be the same flavor of courage required to uncover and accept one’s own queerness, nor the often-painstaking journey one undergoes to do so. But in a way, the two (what it is to elope and what it is to be queer) feel to me to be linked. Analogous. They pair well, like cheese and wine.

I think about the large 130+ guest wedding I planned for myself and my then-husband, back when I presented (and assumed myself to be) cis-het. I think about how I fell in love with elopements when I started photographing them, and how I wished I had eloped instead. I think about how much I resented my own wedding, and I think about how much of it probably had to do with my own gender and sexuality—in all honestly, it’s still a little difficult to parse out what was going on in my head around that time. Whatever it was, the wedding felt wrong. Not the person I was marrying, or even our marriage itself—I couldn’t have any ill feelings toward him if I tried, and this certainly isn’t a piece about that anyway. The wedding experience itself felt wrong: the pageantry of it all, and all the obligations and traditions. As if I were fitting myself into a box (a dress, a wedding, all the same in the end) that wasn’t meant for me.

I think about my divorce—quite a lot, of course, because I’m currently going through it—and that if (when) I ever get married again, I’m going to elope. I think about the fact that if all goes according to plan and I do get married again someday, I’ll have gone through a big traditional wedding as a cis-het-presenting person, then an elopement as someone who’s 1000% queer. If nothing else, it makes me chuckle.

I like the thought that

elopements are for queer folks.

They’re for straight, cis couples—of course. This isn’t about queer exclusivity, or anything like that. Elopements are for everyone, and that’s what makes them beautiful. But I like the thought that eloping is for queer folks, even if it’s just a little theory I’ve created for myself. Because when I get married again, when I elope, that experience will be mine. And it will be so, so right for me.


HEY THERE, WE’RE

WILDERPINES ELOPEMENTS

Creating wildly intentional & intimate adventure elopements for rad couples in the PNW

We’re here to inspire you and help you create a unique, intentional, unforgettable wedding experience that reflects who you are, then to capture it all so you can relive those moments forever.

If you’re looking for more information on how to elope in the Pacific Northwest or beyond, get in touch and let’s start planning your dream elopement!

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