Justifying Love: A reflection on navigating the Partnership Visa process.
It’s a weird thing to go through a partnership visa application. It’s both strange and exhausting at the same time. I knew it would be a process. The sheer amount of paperwork, evidence, and bureaucratic hoops you must jump through can sometimes feel overwhelming. I completely understand why people hire immigration lawyers. As much as I read up on the process and now, after diving headfirst into it with my partner Cris, nothing quite prepared me for the emotional weight of it.
There’s something deeply unsettling about having to justify your relationship to a faceless stranger, someone who will never likely meet you or your partner but holds the power to decide your future together. Don’t get me wrong. I understand why the process exists. A partnership visa is meant for people in genuine, committed relationships. Of Course, the government needs to ensure that’s the case. Fraudulent applications exist, and these checks are necessary. But that doesn’t make it any less dehumanising.
Love isn’t a transaction. I don’t believe it is something that can be neatly packaged into a series of documents and photographs. And yet, that’s exactly what we have to do. Still, it’s surreal having to prove something so profoundly personal to an unseen person who holds the power to decide your future.
I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that the process has stirred up some unexpected emotions. With all honesty, it’s been a triggering experience for me. Years ago, my previous activism saw me heavily involved in the fight for marriage equality, especially here in Queensland. I marched, I campaigned, I poured my heart into the belief that love should never have to be justified. It was infuriating that LGBTIQ+ couples had to prove that their relationships were just as valid as any other. Back then, the idea that I had to prove my love was valid felt like an insult to my existence. Now all these years later, in a different but eerily similar way, I once again have to justify my love and commitment.
There’s no sugarcoating it. It hurts, and it’s mentally draining. Not because I doubt my relationship but because of the sheer vulnerability of having it scrutinised by someone who doesn’t know us and doesn’t see the little moments that make up our love story. They don’t see how we laugh at each other’s stupid jokes and quirks, the support we give each other on our hard days, and how we fit together in ways that words or documents could never fully capture. And yet, we have to lay it all out, hoping it’s enough.
There’s constant pressure to ensure every document is in order, every piece of evidence is strong enough, and every question is answered perfectly. I have no doubt about my relationship, but the uncertainty of the application process consistently lingers in the back of my mind. Will the case officer see what we see? Will they understand the depth of our relationship through what we provide in a collection of forms, statements, and photos? What if, despite everything, the slightest oversight leads to a rejection? A level of mental exhaustion comes with the uncertainty of it all. It’s a terrifying thought because this isn’t just mere paperwork. This is our life. This is our future together.
Despite the challenges, I remind myself that this process is just a temporary hurdle. One that both Cris and I will overcome together. I have comfort in a particular constant. That is the love we share. Our love is real. Our love is strong. And no matter how many forms we have to fill out, how many statements we have to write, or how many hoops we have to jump through, nothing will change that.
As testing as this application process has been for both of us, I do believe that it will all lead to a positive outcome for both of us. Love isn’t something that can be neatly packaged into a checklist, but for now, that’s what we must do. At the end of the day, if it means building a future with the person I love, then it’s worth every ounce of effort.
For anyone else going through this process of a partnership visa, I know the frustration, fear, and exhaustion that come with it all. But I also know the love that makes it all worth it. And I truly believe that in the end, love will win. It has to.
