An End to “Gay Marriage”

My special day is no more special than yours.

Sometimes, when a new acquaintance asked if I were married, I used to say, “Oh, I’m in a relationship, but we’re forbidden to wed.” That generally led to some interesting conversations about “gay marriage” and the unspoken myth that everyone is heterosexual (until proven otherwise).

Lately, the way my fiancé and I describe our fourteen-year relationship as a couple depends more on the changing law of the land than on anything personal or emotional. But now that we’re engaged to be legally married, and that marriage is going to be recognized at both the federal and the state levels, there’s still one hurdle we need to overcome; the social stigma of having a separate-but-equal “gay marriage.”

Changing Status

A few years ago, it was actually kind of fun playing with my Facebook status updates as the laws wrestled and shifted. When Mayor Gavin Newsom decided that San Francisco would start issuing marriage licenses to gay couples, I updated my Facebook status to let people know I was now engaged. I did it to support the political message Newsom was trying to send. But inside, I felt as if I were just playing dress-up in my mother’s bridal gown. It didn’t feel real. And the constant repetition of the phrase “gay marriage” among friends and in the media just supported my sense that what we were talking about was something not quite the same as what everyone else had.

That lasted several months, as the state of California followed San Francisco’s lead, and “gay marriage” was legalized—for a while. Whether you were in favor of it or not, the phrase was now on everyone’s lips. Pink and lavender joined with gold, white, and silver to decorate everything from blog posts to parade floats. It was a party, and it was a protest, but it didn’t feel in any way related to a mature choice to be made by adults who want to share a life together.

I never wanted to live my life as a political statement, and my partner agreed with me. We wanted “gay marriage” to be well and truly the law of the land, and not some special status to be dangled in front of us or taken away at the whim of the courts and the voters. What was happening all around us felt almost bratty, as if San Francisco and then California were just daring someone not to let us have our sweet, sweet candy. So we didn’t take advantage of the temporary opportunity.

My Rights Are Not Up To Me

The political machinery to repeal the legal recognition of “gay marriage” went into full force immediately. In a terrifyingly matter-of fact manner, the very right of gay people to marry was stripped naked and nailed up on the wall for a public vote. Then, in a twist only a bad political dramatist could have dreamed up, the same ballot that brought us the election of the first African-American President of the United States, also brought a decision by the majority of voters in California that some of us should not be allowed to get married, just because of our sexual identities.

When Proposition 8 passed, the window of opportunity closed. I quickly updated my Facebook status, reflecting that I was now once again “in a relationship.” Close friends shared their condolences. It wasn’t our time. We waited for the laws to shift again.

Now in 2013, the change feels more robust. The Supreme Court of the United States has overturned Proposition 8, and declared that there is no reasonable argument in favor of preventing gay couples from enjoying the legal protections and rights associated with marriage at the Federal level. The state of California has resumed issuing marriage licenses to gay couples.

A few days after the decision was announced, I updated my Facebook status again, and this time we set a date.

Marriage Without Qualification

I do believe we are now well and truly engaged. We’re happy that we’re about to have our relationship recognized and validated. But it still doesn’t feel as if society has caught up with us. What kind of equality is it when your very marriage—the way you and the person you love define yourselves a family—has to have a qualifier?

I’m too young to remember a time when there were laws in this country that prohibited marriage between people who were legally considered to be from different races, but it wasn’t that long ago. When the last anti-miscegenation laws were finally deemed unconstitutional, I’m sure there was a period of time when the term “interracial marriage” had the same flavor as “gay marriage” does now.

It gives me hope that that phrase now feels as antiquated as some of the other racist, sexist, classist, and otherwise divisive terms we’re moving past as a society. Even that battle is not truly won yet. But I have faith that one day the phrase “gay marriage” can be left behind as a quaint anachronism.

Looking Forward

The phrase “gay marriage” has been useful. It has helped raise awareness of the inequality that existed in my own state, and that still exists in many places across the country and around the world. It’s a convenient shorthand for something that society apparently still feels a need to wall off as a distinct concept. And the absurdity of the images it conjures up in the minds of the ignorant has served as a rallying point against latent intolerance where it still festers in otherwise forward-thinking minds.

Try to stretch your mind around the notion that it is not “gay marriage” you are discussing; it is instead the unifying concept that what you call marriage is the exact same thing I call marriage.

It may take some time before the passionate support for “gay marriage” that won this recent victory for all of us mellows into an acknowledgment that marriage is just marriage, without any qualifications. I look forward to that day, even if it means I will have to sacrifice some of the pride I take from being an exotic outsider. I’m sure I can conjure up other fine qualities to be proud of.

Our marriage isn’t going to be “gay,” even if my fiancé and I are.