Love, law, and liberation: A Pride Month reflection from Guam to home

By Rhea B. Peñaflor

This Pride Month, I write not just as an advocate, but as someone whose life was deeply shaped by the courage of others.

One of those people is a fellow Ilongga, former Guam Sen. Nerissa Bretania Underwood, who authored the Guam Marriage Equality Act of 2015. Because of that law, my wife and I were able to get married in Guam in 2017.

For years, we searched for a place where our relationship could be recognized. Many countries were simply not an option. Some were too expensive. Others required one of us to be a citizen or had very strict requirements. It often felt like the world had doors, but none were open for us.

Guam changed that.

Because of Senator Underwood’s steadfast advocacy that helped turn equality into law, we were able to stand together and legally say yes to each other. That moment was not just about us. It was about dignity, recognition, and finally being treated like everyone else.

When I spoke with Senator Underwood, what struck me most was how personal her advocacy was.

She shared that her values were shaped early in life.

“Based on my childhood experiences, I understood what it felt like to be excluded and marginalized. I knew that sometimes people judged me negatively and that I did not get the same opportunities.”

She spoke about being an immigrant child who did not speak English, being bullied, and feeling like she did not belong. Those experiences stayed with her.

“I understood alienation, discrimination, and not feeling like being part of society.”

Later, as an educator, a mother of biracial children, and a Christian, she saw these same patterns of exclusion affecting others, including members of the LGBTQ community.

“As a Christian, I felt that the love of the Lord should be extended to everyone. I wanted to do that by embracing the community rather than criticizing them. I wanted to demonstrate that love and empathy by supporting same-sex marriage.”

What really shifted things for her was a visit to Canada.

On that trip, she saw a society where same-sex marriage was already legal and where LGBTQ individuals were living openly and contributing to their communities.

“I thought seriously about how members of this community provide services to the rest of us. We trust them as teachers, as doctors, as police, as caregivers, and as members of the military. They make our society better and our country safer. Why would we not trust them to make their own decisions about whom they love and how they want to make those relationships legal?”

That simple but powerful reflection led her to act.

Of course, it was not easy.

She shared that even within her own church, people warned her that she would be punished for supporting the measure.

“They said I was promoting homosexuality. This was disturbing since many had been my personal friends for years.”

But she held on to her faith, not in fear, but in love.

“I had to go back to my understanding of God’s love. His love is unconditional. He loves all of us, and he made us who we are. I believe at my core if you did something out of love, you would be protected by God, not punished.”

That belief gave her the strength to move forward.

Politically, the environment was already shifting. Courts in the United States were ruling in favor of marriage equality, but Guam still needed its own legislation.

“There was passive resistance and private opposition, but the tide had turned.”

What I found most remarkable was that she was not chasing recognition or political gain.

“There was no discernible political boost for me, and I wasn’t expecting one. I just wanted to do the right thing.”

Because of that decision, couples like us found a way to be recognized.

She herself acknowledged that the impact went beyond Guam.

“In an ironic way, this legislation has helped people in surrounding countries experience same-sex marriage, where it is illegal or frowned upon. I am happy for them.”

When I heard that, I felt seen.

Because we are part of that story.

As I celebrate Pride, I also carry a quiet longing. I still hope for the day when this becomes possible in the Philippines. A day when couples like us do not have to leave home just to be recognized. A day when we can marry the person we love and receive the same social and legal benefits as any other couple, no more, no less.

Senator Underwood does not speak of legacy in grand terms, but her words stay with me.

“I am humbled to have played a role in the fight for fair treatment. But the journey is long and there are many participants. This wasn’t my journey, it was the movement of thousands from the past to the present.”

Her message to the next generation is clear and timely.

“I would like to challenge them to know your values and fight for your community and others who may be experiencing discrimination. It isn’t always easy, but it is a continuing responsibility.”

This Pride Month, I celebrate love. I celebrate courage. And I celebrate people like Senator Underwood, who remind us that change often begins with a quiet decision to do what is right.

And like many others, I continue to hope that one day, we will not have to cross borders for something as simple and as profound as the right to say yes.

Happy Pride, my fellow LGBTIQ+ family, and thank you to all our allies.

Padayon lang!

The author, a dedicated LGBTIQ+ advocate, is happily married to Nody Mae Martir.