Mia Andersen, lesbian activist and Metropolitan Community
Church minister, works as a book seller in Copenhagen's city center.
Two years later they decided to live together, which would have been easy if they had been a heterosexual couple.
But as lesbians, they had no way to avoid the threat of deportation for Vergez. "If we had been a straight couple, we would have just gone to the Town Hall and got married," said Andersen, a book seller and minister with the Metropolitan Community Church, which offers spiritual guidance for homosexuals.
For the next six years, they lived in uncertainty. Vergez maintained a low profile, but police continued to tell her she couldn't live in Denmark with the papers she had.
When they heard about the 1989 partnership law, they dashed to the Town Hall on a Saturday, joining three other same-sex couples in one ceremony.
"We got registered and then went to the police, thumbing our noses," Andersen said with a smile.
Andersen, 39, said her mother supports their union and likes to use it to shock people: "She'll bring up marriage and say: 'Yes, my daughter is married to a woman.'"
Vergez, 37, now teaches history, French and music in first to ninth grades.
She said when students started asking about her private life, she consulted with a union representative, saying: "I'm gay and I don't intend to make it a secret."
Mia Andersen and Laurence Vergez "thumbed their noses" at the
police after they registered, ending immigration problems.
For the two, legal partnership was a practical solution to immigration problems.
"But ultimately, the reason is one of love," Vergez said. "You don't take this step until you plan to be in a committed relationship."
Wednesday
Push for equality: The impact of registered partnerships for same-sex couples in Denmark, the first country to legalize such unions.
Thursday
Related stories in Thursday’s [Business] section online
Friday
Archive of previous same-sex stories