Marrying in the Middle: Marriage Equality & Me


When we started planning our wedding, one of the things that we loved about it having it here in California was that in this state, all of our fellow citizens had the right to marry the one they love. That we wouldn’t be taking advantage of a right that others did not share, that we wouldn’t be participating in an institution that discriminated.

I confess that I really never believed Proposition 8 would pass. I had a moment of doubt when I was filling out my absentee ballot, when I thought wow, that question is worded rather strangely. I hope people understand this is a vote to remove rights. But I was working day and night on the Obama campaign and I checked the numbers regularly and they were so close and I thought that the work that I was doing – registering young people, turning out progressives in large numbers – would be enough.

Every time I saw a Yes on 8 commercial, informing me that gay people marrying would hurt my upcoming marriage and damage children, my stomach constricted. The phone banks I was running were all calling other states. I only spoke to California voters when I was calling to ask volunteers to come in for shifts. But I waved this off, thinking they will pull this out, this is California, this is something that we can’t lose.

You know the rest.

We have been constructing our Chuppah slowly over the past several weeks. As we’ve examined wedding traditions from our cultures, the Chuppah is one that resonates deeply and that we will be honoring. It symbolizes the home the couple will build together, is open on all sides to represent hospitality to all guests, and holds nothing inside it as a reminder that home is the people within it, not the possessions.

Steve and I talked recently about when we “knew.” I have so many different moments – when I knew he was special, when I knew that I loved him, when I knew that I loved him enough to fight for him, when I knew I would love him always. But I knew I wanted to marry him when I realized that he was my home. That no matter where I was or what I was doing, home was my head on his chest and my hand over his heart.

It was important to us to build the structure from scratch, by hand, just the two of us. Steve selected and stained the poles, we crouched on the floor of Home Depot, cutting PVC pipe, mixed and poured 80 pounds of concrete into foil cake pans. We bought six yards of unbleached cloth and Steve folded while I ironed and Steve pinned and I sewed. Last night I embroidered our names and a nod to our favorite Tom Robbins quote on it in teal thread. It is plain and imperfect, but it is ours.

I am trying not to feel guilty that this family that Steve and I have built will be recognized. That we will be a legal family when so many other families have been stripped of that right. I’m trying to find the silver lining – trying to be thankful that the 18 thousand married same-sex couples will not be forcibly divorced. Hoping that the lives and stories of these families will show people that there is nothing to fear.

Guilt is an unproductive emotion.

So instead, I will say this: this is my fight, too. I will not accept entering into an institution that discriminates. I don’t believe that anyone’s civil rights should be put to a popular vote, but if that’s the way that this will be won, then that’s the way we will win it. I’ve always believed that an institution is best changed from the inside out. When liberals would threaten to move away during the Bush years, it always felt like the coward’s way out. Democracy is not always easy, but this is your country – show up, do the work, we need you here now more than ever.

And so we will marry, and we will fight until our friends and neighbors can do the same. And I promise you this: when this makes it back on the ballot, be it in 2010 or 2012, we will do the work. We will donate. We will make phone calls. We will pound pavement.

We will show up hand-in-hand and we will stand with you.


The bottom line is that (a) people are never perfect, but love can be, (b) that is the one and only way that the mediocre and vile can be transformed, and (c) doing that makes it that. We waste time looking for the perfect lover, instead of creating the perfect love. -Tom Robbins