Former Houston broadcasters Stephen Morgan, left, and Steven Romo, right, pose for an engagement photo after Morgan proposed in 2021. What the couple viewed as a personal milestone would become a public moment that resonated with LGBTQ viewers and journalists who saw themselves reflected in their story.

Former Houston broadcasters Stephen Morgan, left, and Steven Romo, right, pose for an engagement photo after Morgan proposed in 2021. What the couple viewed as a personal milestone would become a public moment that resonated with LGBTQ viewers and journalists who saw themselves reflected in their story.

Courtesy of Stephen Morgan and Steven Romo

Stephen Morgan remembers very little about the political rally that brought him face-to-face with his future husband.

That’s not surprising. The former Fox 26 meteorologist, now with Fox Weather, had spent the day covering a race he didn’t particularly want to cover in the first place.

“Yeah, the whole time, I did not enjoy it,” Morgan recently recalled.

Article continues below this ad

But somewhere in the crowd at a 2018 Houston campaign event, Morgan briefly crossed paths with Steven Romo, a reporter from rival station ABC13. They exchanged a greeting, went their separate ways and returned to work.

MORE PRIDE: Inside Houston’s World Cup home for LGBTQ+ soccer fans

At the time, it was little more than a passing introduction. Two years later, it would become something much bigger, and not just for the two of them.

For Morgan and Romo, the story of how they met is only one chapter in a larger story about visibility, authenticity and LGBTQ+ representation in media.

Article continues below this ad

Today, both men say that visibility matters because a young LGBTQ+ person watching from home may be searching for the same reassurance they once needed: proof that it is possible to build a successful career without hiding who they are.

Finding authenticity in Houston

That journey began in Houston.

Morgan arrived in the city in 2017 after working in Springfield, Missouri. Romo, a Texas native, had spent years working in smaller television markets before landing at ABC13.

“I went with an intention to Houston to open my life up,” Morgan said.

Article continues below this ad

Houston wasn’t just a career move. It was the first place where he allowed himself to imagine a different future.

Romo described a similar feeling. After years of questioning whether being openly gay fit with a career in television news, Houston’s size, diversity and culture made it feel possible to imagine a future that included both professional success and personal authenticity.

The two would not reconnect until 2020.

By then, both were working weekend morning shifts and navigating the unusual schedules that come with television news. The brief introduction they shared two years earlier quickly became something more.

“I fell in love with him pretty fast,” Romo said.

Article continues below this ad

For Morgan, one thing stood out almost immediately.

“He’s just such an honest person and so vulnerable, and I am very skeptical and distrustful,” Morgan said. “We just clicked right from the beginning, and I trusted him so early.”

That trust surprised him.

“I was marveling at that and just falling in love,” Morgan said.

The relationship would soon face its first major test.

Article continues below this ad

When Morgan’s career presented an opportunity in New York, Romo found himself confronting a decision he never expected to make. He would be leaving behind Houston, ABC13 and a career he had spent years building without another job waiting for him on the other side.

“I thought I would be there forever,” Romo said of ABC13.

At the time, he had recently been offered a weekday anchor promotion.

Instead, he packed up and moved to New York.

As uncertain as the decision felt professionally, Romo said it felt simple personally.

“I took a chance on love,” he said.

Finding a path forward

For much of their early careers, neither man saw many examples of openly LGBTQ+ journalists succeeding in television news.

Working in smaller markets, many of them deeply conservative, left Romo questioning whether there was room for someone like him in television news, he said.

During Romo’s early career in smaller Texas communities, being openly gay “didn’t even really strike me as an option,” he said. “There are a lot of small Texas towns, and it didn’t feel like a good, safe place to do that.”

One of the grooms prepares for the couple's wedding ceremony in Texas.

One of the grooms prepares for the couple’s wedding ceremony in Texas.

HEATHER GLENN WITH ELYSIAN BLOOM PHOTOGRAPHYStephen Morgan and Steven Romo exchange vows surrounded by family and friends.

Stephen Morgan and Steven Romo exchange vows surrounded by family and friends.

HEATHER GLENN WITH ELYSIAN BLOOM PHOTOGRAPHYStephen Morgan and Steven Romo share their first kiss as a married couple.

Stephen Morgan and Steven Romo share their first kiss as a married couple.

HEATHER GLENN WITH ELYSIAN BLOOM PHOTOGRAPHYThe newlyweds celebrate after exchanging vows.

The newlyweds celebrate after exchanging vows.

HEATHER GLENN WITH ELYSIAN BLOOM PHOTOGRAPHYSteven Romo shares a dance with his mother during the couple's wedding reception.

Steven Romo shares a dance with his mother during the couple’s wedding reception.

HEATHER GLENN WITH ELYSIAN BLOOM PHOTOGRAPHYThe couple's wedding cake awaits guests before the reception.

The couple’s wedding cake awaits guests before the reception.

HEATHER GLENN WITH ELYSIAN BLOOM PHOTOGRAPHY

“Everyone, of course, should come out when it is the right time for them, and it wasn’t the right time for me.”

When Romo entered the industry, CNN anchor Anderson Cooper had not yet publicly come out. He remembers watching Cooper continue to cover major stories around the world after doing so and realizing that being openly gay and being a respected journalist were not mutually exclusive.

“Seeing Anderson do it and then go cover stories across the world really was the signpost for me that I can do this,” Romo said. “This is a safe, realistic thing to do.”

Morgan’s journey was different, but it led him to a similar place. Raised in a conservative religious environment, he spent years focused almost exclusively on building a career in meteorology while pushing questions about his identity into the background.

“I was taught from an early age that being gay is a sin,” Morgan said. “When I was thinking about what my professional life would look like, it was not at all connected to my personal feelings and attractions.”

Instead, he poured himself into school and work, earning a degree in meteorology and climbing the television market ladder before eventually arriving in Houston.

“I didn’t have a ton of people that I looked up to growing up,” Morgan said. “I just kept my nose to the grindstone and tried to figure out how to get this meteorology degree and hopefully be successful.”

A blurry selfie and a public moment

When Morgan proposed in 2021, neither man expected the announcement to become anything more than a personal milestone shared with family, friends and coworkers.

In fact, Romo still laughs when he talks about the photo they used to announce their engagement.

Stephen Morgan, now with Fox Weather, and Steven Romo take a sunset selfie in New York after relocating from Houston. It wasn't the blurry selfie they used to announce their engagement, but another snapshot of the life they were building together.

Stephen Morgan, now with Fox Weather, and Steven Romo take a sunset selfie in New York after relocating from Houston. It wasn’t the blurry selfie they used to announce their engagement, but another snapshot of the life they were building together.

Courtesy of Stephen Morgan and Steven Romo

“It was a blurry selfie,” Romo said. “It’s not a great selfie.”

For Romo, the post was never intended to be a public declaration. Family members and colleagues already knew he was gay. To him, it was simply a chance to celebrate the person he loved.

“I want people to know that I’m in love and happy and proud of who I am,” Romo said.

The reaction caught them off guard. 

What they viewed as an engagement announcement was interpreted by many viewers as something else entirely: a public coming-out moment for two familiar faces in Houston television news.

Romo remembers one interaction in particular. After he shared the news of the engagement with coworkers, a longtime colleague quietly reassured him that she would keep it a secret.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone,” she told him. 

The comment stopped him in his tracks.

Until then, Romo said, he had been thinking about what the engagement meant for him and Morgan. For the first time, he realized other people might see the announcement differently.

After the post went live, messages began pouring in. Many congratulated the couple. Others thanked them for being visible.

“I was very surprised by that, that people cared about it,” Romo said. “I was just blown away by the kindness of most people.”

For Morgan, the response reinforced something he had slowly come to understand during his years in television news: people were paying attention not just to the forecast, but to the person delivering it.

The power of ordinary moments

Years after posting that blurry engagement selfie, the moments that resonate most with viewers are often the ones that appear least significant.

While anchoring a streaming broadcast for NBC News, Romo casually mentioned that a tie he was wearing belonged to his husband. The comment lasted only a few seconds.

“I got several messages from people who didn’t realize I was gay until I said that and thanked me for saying it,” Romo said.

The reaction surprised him.

“I realized that maybe it’s just existing authentically and openly actually can make a difference,” Romo said.

Morgan has had similar experiences.

As a meteorologist, he said viewers often develop a uniquely personal connection with the people delivering forecasts into their homes each day. For years, that meant carefully separating parts of his personal life from his public identity. Today, he no longer feels that pressure.

Stephen Morgan and Steven Romo relax with their dogs, Cumulus, left, and Theo.

Stephen Morgan and Steven Romo relax with their dogs, Cumulus, left, and Theo.

Courtesy of Stephen Morgan and Steven Romo

“I need to call my husband,” Morgan said, describing the type of casual remark that once felt difficult to say publicly. “It’s so liberating to not withhold that.”

Representation, they say, is rarely about grand gestures. More often, it is found in ordinary moments — a passing comment on air, a family photo on social media or a simple acknowledgment of the person waiting for them at home.

“It’s not this thing where I want to smear it or throw it in people’s faces,” Morgan said. “I need to know for myself that it’s OK and that this is a safe place.”

That, they say, is why ordinary moments can matter so much. Not because every LGBTQ+ journalist is trying to become a role model, but because seeing someone live openly can help another person imagine a future for themselves.

“Young people especially are watching,” Romo said, “and they’re looking for examples that they’re going to be OK one day.”

Steven Romo, left, and Stephen Morgan dress as Mario and Luigi for Halloween.

Steven Romo, left, and Stephen Morgan dress as Mario and Luigi for Halloween.

Courtesy of Stephen Morgan and Steven Romo

So, in the spirit of ordinary moments, both were asked the same question at the end of separate interviews. As gay men during Pride Month, what is their iced coffee order?

Romo answered first, describing an iced Americano with sugar-free vanilla syrup and cinnamon.

When asked the same question later, Morgan’s first response wasn’t about coffee at all.

“Did you ask Steven this?” he said.

After hearing his husband’s answer, Morgan quickly pointed out that Romo usually drinks hot coffee before offering his own order and jokingly accused him of trying to sound cooler than he is.

Moments like that are what representation ultimately makes possible — the freedom to build an ordinary life together.