Marriage equality or this is not a coming out post

Erin Van Krimpen
Aug 23, 2017 · 3 min read

I have a Masters in human rights. I could set out for you all the theory, all the historical precedent, and all the straight up facts about why Australia should legislate for gay marriage. But plenty of other people out there, people much smarter than me, have done this already, and I don’t want to repeat their work.

I have a passion for social justice. I could give you a rousing speech which implores you to see LGBTIQA people as deserving of equality, urges you to have empathy for human beings who just want the right to express their love in the same was as heterosexual people, and finishes with an uplifting quote about equality and being in this thing called life together. But plenty of other people out there, people much more eloquent than me, have done this already, and I don’t want my words to pale by comparison.

I have many friends who identify as gay. I could tell you moving stories of their love, explaining how their love has inspired me to believe in the possibility for love for myself, and how it would mean so much to them to be able to express that love through marriage. But plenty of other people out there, people whose stories they are to tell, have done this already, and I don’t want to steal their spotlight.

What I have, deep down inside, is a six-year old version of myself who desperately wants the fantasy of a big white wedding. Thirty-five year old me can take or leave marriage. To me, it seems like a relic of our patriarchal heritage. I lovingly support anyone who wants it for themselves, but I’m not sure it’s for me. I mean, thirty-five year old me can take or leave relationships in general, when you come right down to it. My history with loving people has left me scarred, and my attachment issues are such that I can barely love my dog without falling into a puddle every time I think about losing him. What would I be like, sharing my life with another human being? I shudder to think.

But six-year old Erin, she wants it. Heart-stopping true love, a white dress, tearful vows, big cake, first dance, embarrassing speeches — the whole shebang. And thirty-five year old Erin, the one who identifies as ‘not straight’, believes that the childhood version of herself deserves it, whether the person she chooses to spend the rest of her life with is someone who identifies as a woman, a man or any point in between.

If you’re planning to vote no in the plebiscite, I’m not arrogant enough to think that what I’m writing here is the thing that will change your mind. I do hope to be one drop on a mountain that flows into a stream, that flows into a river, that flows into an ocean of overwhelming love and conviction that this is the right thing to do. I hope that you will think of what you know about me, and consider whether I deserve to be treated with the same dignity, respect and equality that you expect for those in your life who are straight.

If you’re planning to vote yes, six-year old Erin wants to thank you. She also wants a new Care Bear, but the marriage equality thing is important too.

Thirty-five year old Erin thanks you as well, and wants you to know that it means a lot to her. It feels like you’re rooting for her happiness in some small way, and even though right now she’s scared to take that step into loving someone, it helps to know that when she does, you’ll be there, supporting her.

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Erin Van Krimpen

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I overthink things. Writing a book on mental health. Probably overthinking that too.