Today I
woke up next to my husband with the morning light soft against the curve of his
back, a deep calm blanketing our two-bedroom apartment. I couldn't help but stare at him. As he
slept, I cried. Two days ago we were two gay men, "partners" living and striving
together but individually. Today, we are one.
I cannot begin
to describe the feeling of marriage. Emotional clichés abound in my mind:
Beautiful. Amazing. Joyous. Wonderful. Actually, as I write these words, my
heart is an ocean. It is all of these things at once and much more. The
significance of this moment hasn’t quite settled and yet I feel deeply moved
and fundamentally changed. Our union is ours but it’s also a part of something larger
than the two of us.
On Monday, July
1, 2013, Wil woke me at 7:30 am from a deep sleep to tell me that West
Hollywood was expediting same-sex marriages within a six-hour window. “Let’s
go. Let’s get married.” I shot out of bed and managed to cobble together an outfit
suitable for a wedding – my own. As I was dressing, I realized we didn’t have
our rings. We didn’t even have a marriage license. And for a brief moment, on
the hottest day of the year, I shut down. I thought to myself: We should wait… Then (thankfully) my real sense kicked me in the head. We grabbed two rings from our
jewelry box and headed to the Beverly Hills Courthouse.
At 8:45, the
courthouse was crowded with mostly older gay couples dressed in comfortable, casual
attire. Monday was sudden for all of us, even those who had waited decades to
officiate their unions. Wil and
I waited three hours for our license. Charles King and Carlo Celoni, a 60
year-old couple next to us, waited 24 years. Another couple, 50 years. There
was a lightness to it all, a feeling of hope and joy, as if some innocence had been restored.
Marriages were
performed near City Council Chambers in West Hollywood. We were married at
4:15pm by Mayor Abbe Land. The proceedings were simple, organized and
absolutely beautiful. Wil and I cried, almost forgot each other’s names (and
our own) as we exchanged vows and rings. We kissed. We laughed. We kissed
again. It was magical.
The road leading
to this day has been easy for us. Our families and friends are supportive.
We’ve both lived most of our lives in cities like New York and Los Angeles
where the gay community is visible and largely accepted. Sure, we had moments
of fear and doubt along the way. When are
we getting married? What if this
doesn’t happen? Does it matter? The answer is, yes, it absolutely matters!
The LA Times reported that Los
Angeles County issued 621 marriage licenses to same-sex couples on Monday
alone. The significance for us, and for the generations before and after our
own, is monumental.
As gay people,
we have endured hatred and intolerance. We’ve survived epidemics of suicide,
drug abuse, disease and murder. We’ve been physically, emotionally and
spiritually abused at the hands of those we loved the most. We’ve been used to
further political and religious agendas that would murder and maim us. We’ve been stigmatized as degenerates
and pedophiles and casually treated as second-class citizens. We’ve carried all
of that on our shoulders and in our hearts for centuries until now.
The Supreme
Court’s decision to overturn DOMA and the repeal of Proposition 8, along with the
dissolution of bogus organizations like Exodus International, will have "profound consequences,” as pastor Netz Gomez a spokesman for ProtectMarriage recently
stated. (He was inferring that those effects would have a negative impact on
society, of course.) I’m not religious but I would cite Christ here since so
many presume to speak against the gay community on his behalf. A tolerant
society built on compassion is what Christ envisioned. Christ did not die for sin -- he died at the hands of sinners
-- intolerant, hateful men who feared his revolutionary message of universal
love and acceptance. Christ would have surely blessed my marriage on Monday.
The only "effect" my marriage has had on me and on those around me is one of overwhelming and
profound joy. Now when I stare at my husband (even when he doesn’t know it)
all of the strife washes away. Self-doubt is replaced by resolve, the fear by
love. It matters for us all. Happy 4th of July!
