I almost got married…once.
Hid informal ring beside a home-made nest of found branches and twine. With an egg in the middle, symbolizing new life.
In an alley in a city somewhere closer to the west, I led a woman toward this ring where I disrobed my language and asked.
This was a time when less states were involved. This was a time when it was safe for queers to marry in Massachusetts. In Connecticut. In Vermont and New Hampshire. In Iowa. In the state in which I asked her, it would not have been recognized. But that did not stop our friends, two women, from exchanging vows. Still together. Still in love. And they even made a baby.
* * *
I almost got married…once. And now, as I reflect on this almost, stuck into a rising pile of almosts, I think about where this country is headed.
Now, we add Maine and Maryland.
Minds are cracking open and stretching into larger, wider shapes. Ignorance still wafts in the air, crossing borders and state lines, but I sense the aroma of forward-thinking ahead.
* * *
I almost got married…once. And now I wonder if it is possible for that to ever happen again (without the almost). I’ve never been a fan of rules or regulations. Ran away many times to prove that I could. I don’t need the permission to get married, but it sure would be nice to have the recognition/benefits.
Before gay marriage was legalized in Connecticut, my dad and I sat in a church listening to testimonies from queer mothers and daughters. Photographs lined the stage of queer families and they just looked like humans smiling because that is what they are. Because that is what WE are.
My dad has since volunteered to promote gay rights and he has always been by my side, fighting for what shouldn’t have to be fought for.
How odd to live in a world where we must publicly come out. An announcement of our orientation. Maybe we should force this on everyone. Because for some of us–for me–there is not just one coming out.
So, we hop onto stages. And we form marches. And we make t-shirts and buttons. And we vote. And we VOTE. And we VOTE.
And we come out come out come out because there is strength in numbers. Because there is strength. Because the fight doesn’t end just because an election is over. It continues.