Marriage Equality

May 2013

It Stands Alone

Throughout the course of the very limited conversations we had about our marriage ending, my ex made it quite clear to me that our wedding was a mistake. If not a mistake, a distraction. While it makes sense that, in the end, it may have been an unnecessary use of resources, I have really wrestled with believing that it was an unnecessary use of my heart and an unnecessary reflection of the love I felt for and shared with my ex. To have it be such a fresh memory—seven months ago—only compounds the clashing feelings of joy and loss. I’ve just been trying to figure out how I truly feel about it all.

The biggest impediments to just pretending it never happened are the physical, tangible artifacts of the day itself. In my possession I have every note, every sample, every plan, and multiple copies of almost every component from my wedding day. I have photos, online and on hand. I have gifts from our registries and handmade things from my family and friends to celebrate our love. I have the cards, the soundtrack to our day, my ring. And every single love note or card my ex ever gave to me, including daily notes from the month before our wedding day.

I have the blanket one of my closest friends hand-knitted for us draped across my bed. The beautiful gold frame my brother gave us for Christmas, with a photo of my family at our wedding, sits on my windowsill, repurposed. The platters I had hoped to serve delicious meals on to our families on holidays and at special celebrations are tucked away in a closet. My wedding dress is balled up and shoved into a basket with copies of my wedding program, our guestbook, and the hand-calligraphy print our stationer made especially for us. I could throw all of these things into a giant fire pit and turn the memories of them into ash, but I don’t want to do that. Because they were given with love and with the intention of becoming part of memories. Good memories. And I deserve to keep them.

There are these memories of the process and the day to hold close to my heart, but there are also the archives of the connections I share with everyone there. Archives that continue to be filled, despite my marriage ending. To erase these images and these memories seems unnecessary. And to be honest, it seems mean.

My best friends in the whole world, by my side through everything.

My dear friend and incredible spiritual guide, Bishop David Flaherty, who wrote one of the most moving and personalized wedding ceremonies that could ever be written for two people he believed in without fail and without hesitation.

Katherine seeing me in my dress for the first time, her face reflecting the love she has held in her heart for me for twenty-eight-plus years.

Angela and me looking at each other adoringly, and then collapsing into a fit of giggles. This is not unique to the day, this is unique to us.

My brother and me, voguing in the driveway between photos. Continue reading It Stands Alone

Posted in: Marriage Equality, The Hard Stuff, Thoughts & Action | 45 Comments »

May 2013

Elisabeth: Changing Course

Up to now, I’ve spent a lot of time fretting over our wedding clambake. Between negotiating my divorced parents in the same place, and my genuine questioning about whether getting married as queer women is the right thing to do; between our extrovert-introvert unbalanced guest list, and the feeling of blowing our life savings on a one day event; yep, I’ve been fretting. K and I have been jointly fretting, actually, although about different things, which has meant some tense conversations over dueling laptops and Excel spreadsheets. About a month ago she wanted to delete a column where I was collecting stats on neither-responded-nor-invited-yet guests who might decline a pre-wedding event, and I could not possibly understand why she wanted to delete said column since it was key for my estimates, all of which culminating in me shrieking, “Data is the basis for the entire field of epidemiology and frankly all of public health and you can certainly delete that column, I’m just POINTING OUT it is everything I stand for personally and professionally.” About ten seconds after saying that, I wanted to shove myself back in the closet, but it’s too late and now K pretends that I am John Snow, getting married in between field collection at the local water pump.

In the past week, though, the vibe has definitely started to change. Last Saturday I woke up at the crack of dawn to head for the Short Hills Mall, that magical suburban Mecca that I once heard referred to as the heart of darkness. I had two of my most fashionable friends with me, and we were going to find me a dress to wear at my wedding. I had a BPA-free water bottle, supportive running shoes, and protein-based snacks. Find me a goddamn dress and let’s get on with it.

I’ve mentioned my struggles about trying to figure out my wedding outfit, about what one should wear if one doesn’t want to wear white and doesn’t fit into “regular” sizes. Since that post, I can report I’ve done exactly nothing except fret (well, and rail against the media’s portrayal of women). In March, a friend made me go to Lord & Taylor (we tried Saks, but the one in the city doesn’t carry sizes past 14. Thanks, Saks!). She picked out about four hundred possibilities, and I picked out one that I thought was properly festive. It seemed promising. I did a slow turn as my friend diplomatically said, “That would be a great wedding dress, if your wedding was a dance club in Miami instead of a daytime clambake cocktail party.”

Real talk: if I did this on my own, I’d end up in a sailor shirt. A friend once described my gender identity as “camping femme.” Accurate! I refuse to wear those zip-away combo shorts-pants, but other than that, my standards are sensibly low. That, combined with my general shopping disdain, frustration at rarely finding things that fit well, and major unease with the wedding industrial complex, brought me here, about four months out from the wedding with not even any ideas for what to wear. So when we pulled into the parking lot ten minutes before the mall opened, I took a long slug of decaf coffee and ordered myself to think differently. Continue reading Elisabeth: Changing Course

Posted in: Marriage Equality, Planning, Style, Wedding Undergraduates | 57 Comments »

Apr 2013

Elisabeth: What If It’s Not Forever?

K came home the other day with her face drawn. A couple she’s known for a long time, two good people who have gone through a terribly difficult time, have announced that they are separating. She said she couldn’t stop thinking about it all day, and she tried to explain why over a salmon cobb salad: “I’m surprised because they made such sense together.”

We sat there for a long time, picking the good bits out from the lettuce, and talked about the news. About how she really liked both of them, and that they seemed like such a match. About how we both know people who are working hard to stay in situations that seem, from our outside perspective, at best baffling and at worst damaging, and how different this particular split seemed to be. There didn’t seem to be any reason for the separation that we could identify, even as we reasoned that this was a naive assumption. Those who are not involved in the intricacies of a marriage cannot even really know it. Are there things that people just cannot survive, we wondered.

It was a sobering conversation. Here we are, two people who dearly love each other, who are good for each other, in a million big and inconsequential ways. What could happen that would make us decide to leave each other? And what can we do to prevent that, besides keeping communication open, being honest with each other, avoiding condescension, and dreaming up ways to stay intimate? If we cannot reasonably take vows of love’s permanence, then what do the vows even mean?

“I really, really do not want to get divorced,” K vowed. As a child of divorce, I agree with her. I don’t want to go through it, and I don’t want my future kid to go through it. But then I think about my own parents, who are much better not married to one another. My world was rocked when they broke up, but even with all the hurt, I wouldn’t want to stay in a bad situation either. Does that mean I’m not as committed to the cause?

After dinner, we sat down and started a small wedding registry, but couldn’t think of anything to add besides a pressure cooker from this century (we use an antique one we unearthed from the Chincoteague shed that seems MOSTLY safe). It was as if we were looking for some reassurance in the tea leaves, in sheets and towels and pans. As if registering for expensive things, and promising extra hard to be married and stay married, meant we could control all the possibilities of a lifetime. Continue reading Elisabeth: What If It’s Not Forever?

Posted in: LGBTQ Weddings, Marriage Equality, Planning | 44 Comments »

Apr 2013

Elisabeth: What the Psychic Said

Even though APW operates around monthly themes these days, sometimes a weekly theme will emerge as we work our way through a given week’s content. This week, it would appear, is all about figuring out who we are. For me, this is it. No matter the circumstances, knowing who we are is the first step to being prepared to enter into a lifetime of partnership. Because when you know what makes you feel fulfilled, then it won’t end up falling to someone else to figure it out for you. So today we have our intern Elisabeth, with her always-hilarious writing, and a brilliant narrative take on knowing oneself. Plus, there is knitting and baby birds.

—Maddie

When people ask how K and I met, I generally tell them we saw each other online, exchanged a series of winsome emails, and then met up for a bourbon cocktail. If there’s time, though, I like to tell them that what really happened: I put away my shoebox, and I knit a sweater.

A few summers back, I went to a psychic, mostly on a whim, when I was mooning around getting over my last break up. A good friend strongly recommended her. She said that her theatre company relied on the psychic for guidance about absolutely everything. And a theatre company is way more complicated than me, all that blocking and staged readings and shows run entirely on electricity generated by bicycles. Plus the psychic’s office was on the same block as my therapist, which seemed very important.

The psychic had a lot of slightly bizarre and moderately profound things to say to me, including that I was like the 2010 Gulf oil spill and my recent ex was like the cap that neatly sealed it off (not a false assessment of our relationship, but couldn’t you just agree gently that we were a bad match?!). She had lots of things to say about how creatively blocked I was, and that I needed to stop relying on other people to find outlets for my creativity and happiness. When I got out there and found it for myself, by myself, she intoned, only then would I be my authentic self with or without a relationship. Now, I realize that 99% of psychics probably say this to 99% of their customers. But then she said sternly, “You like wounded birds, and you need to stop carrying shoeboxes around for them.” How did that psychic see the last decade of my dating history? This was a logic model I could get behind: spend time alone; do not be distracted by wounded birds, even the most adorable ones; use all that time to discover my authentic self; once self is found, hold onto it and find a Person who is really pumped about my authentic self.

Of course, I had big intentions, but as with many of my projects, I was long on enthusiasm and a bit short on follow-through. I would “be creative” in periodic fits of energy. I sewed two pillow covers out of sea themed dishtowels from the Crate and Barrel outlet, my wild and distracted stitches marching up and down the messy seams. I co-chaired a consensus-based community garden committee. I rearranged my desk. I scattered ocean treasures just so across the wide planks and waited for inspiration to strike and ignored the fact that I had so many public health papers due that I never had any time to do any writing for myself anyway. (In retrospect I may have gone overboard with the ocean treasures. When a friend saw the pillows and sea glass strewn everywhere, she asked if I had plans to rename the bathroom “Buoys and Gulls Room.”) Of course, I also spent a lot of time creatively crying on the Q train.

Then, in the middle of a miserable city winter, I decided I’d embark on a truly creative pursuit: I’d knit a sweater, and I would start dating again when it was finished. Not even any making out lying down, nope, not until I was wearing a hand-knit creation. I reasoned that as adrift as I felt, by the time the sweater was finished I’d feel differently, maybe a little closer to the person I wanted to be. I went to the Lion’s Brand studio just outside of Union Square the next day, found a perfect, vibrant fuchsia, and brought it home. It was just me and those needles, flashing furiously. I realized that in two decades of knitting, I’d really never made anything for myself—not a pair of handwarmers, not even a scarf. I raced jubilantly through the first six inches without realizing the raglan increase was backwards. Ripped the stitches out, started again, slower this time. I would bring my sweater on the train; listen to The Moth podcast while I slipped yarn through loops and counted the rows and let my mind fade away, feeling calmer already, creating my own string theory. “By the time this sweater is done,” I would think, “things will be different.” Continue reading Elisabeth: What the Psychic Said

Posted in: Marriage Equality, Planning, Wedding Undergraduates | 37 Comments »

Apr 2013

Remember The Lesbians: Engagement Rings

There’s nothing I love more than an engagement story that encourages a balance of honest communication with trust in your partner and then sets it with realistic expectations. Because let’s be honest, most of the time the narrative around engagements is…troubling. While I love a surprise as much as the next person (who may not actually like surprises all that much, to be honest), I’m not a fan of the engagement trope that suggests we shouldn’t have a say in the symbols we wear or that discourages conversation on the subject altogether (lest we be too “pushy”). So to add to our recent exploration of the art of engagement (check out intern Elisabeth’s story on choosing and then losing her engagement ring, or intern Rachel’s Buying A Guy An Engagement Ring for some recent forays into the subject), today Sarah gives us Remember The Lesbians: Engagement Ring Edition.

—Maddie

Graphic and original post by Teri & Lisa of Godseeker Comic

Back when our marriage was just a dream, just pillow talk that we whispered to one another, the subject of getting engaged came up. As two women, we had the advantage of living without the normative script of who would propose to whom and how. But that’s a post for another day. Today, I want to share how we decided on and procured engagement rings.

1. Discuss what an engagement ring means to you. I was of the firm opinion that an engagement ring was a rather silly social custom that had some problematic undertones. Don’t get me wrong, I love jewelry, but as someone who winces whenever she spends a glob of money, I theorized that I could be content with something very simple or perhaps nothing at all. And I was troubled by how often I saw someone greet an engagement announcement with, “Oooh! Let me see the ring!” On the other hand, my wife-to-be was firm: She wanted the symbol of commitment, she wanted it to be a ring, and she wanted us both to have one. As it turned out, I was okay with this.

Lesson learned: It is okay to want what you want.

2. Discuss what your low and high ends of spending are. We agreed to both get rings, but more importantly, we agreed that each ring would be a gift from one of us to the other. Although we had shared a joint credit card ever since we’d started living together, this was not to be a joint purchase. That meant that the person buying the ring got final say over how much the ring cost. That said, we discussed what we were comfortable spending. We had disparate incomes at the time, so this was important. I did not want to get her a ring that was worth a fraction of whatever she got me. (Even though price does not correlate with awesomeness.) I also was uncomfortable having a piece of jewelry on my hand that was worth more than a certain amount. We created a ballpark range that we were both comfortable with.

Lesson learned: Agree on cost—and agree who gets to make the final say on cost.

3. Discuss what the ring will be like. This is the perfect conversation fodder for long car rides. We talked about metals, stones, cuts, designs, etc. We talked about how long we wanted to wear the rings (daily, but only through the wedding—thereafter just on special occasions). We talked about our styles (clumsy, so not conducive to delicate or high-set rings). We listed adjectives that we would want to describe our rings—was it, “modern, sleek, and unobtrusive,” or “classic, shiny, and colorful”? These were fun discussions, but they were also thrillingly exciting, because although we were discussing the general vision, the ultimate rings were still going to be a total surprise. I wouldn’t see the ring she gave me until the engagement, and vice versa.

Lesson learned: Talk about your vision for the ring—and agree who gets to make the final decision about what it actually looks like. Continue reading Remember The Lesbians: Engagement Rings

Posted in: Advice, Engagements & Proposals, Marriage Equality, Thoughts & Action, Wedding Undergraduates | 26 Comments »

Mar 2013

Elisabeth: Why Marriage Requires a Number Two Pencil

This post. I’m so in love with this post. In one fell swoop it sums up why we hired Elisabeth as a 2013 writing intern. It’s one of those giggle-quietly-to-yourself-while-hoping-no-one-notices-while-thinking-about-things kind of… moments of magic, really. Plus, it makes you fall in love with her (if you didn’t already two weeks ago, with her body image post). When I quoted David the line, “But how can I take you at your word if there are so many words?” he just looked at me meaningfully.

—Meg

K and I were both interested when our awesome priest (words I feel weird saying, but that’s another blog post) gave us our first assignment as part of our mandatory pre-marital counseling. “It’s a relationship assessment Scantron test that’s guaranteed to give you at least seventy-eight conversation starters about your relationship,” W said. I wondered why we needed seventy-eight more conversation starters, while K gleefully mused, “It’s like getting to take the ACT all over again! I love tests!”

“No cheating,” W admonished us, “I’ll be able to tell if you talk to each other and decide to answer in the same way.” Dutifully, we only spoke in vague tongues about the test, although truthfully, the possibility of answering in the same was unlikely. Since we began this poignant and profound journey of planning our wedding, guess what K and I have agreed on? Exactly nothing. Seriously. Here’s how K decided to marry me, in mostly her own words:

1. “I came home from our first date and g-chatted Denny to ask if it was too early to invite you to Chincoteague for summer vacation.” (Writer’s Note: summer vacation was three months later. This is what we lesbians call the U-Haul. PS: Absolutely too early, and I totally freaked.)

2. “I eventually determined I liked sleeping next to you and was interested in always sleeping next to you.”

3. “Here’s this syllabus I made called ‘Graduate DTR Seminar’ with a list of different topics we should discuss like family, cats, and long-term health care. And then at the end we’ll see how we do and decide if we want to be together forever.”

Can you even handle this adorable accountant?! She is so many facts to my feelings! We are a delicious yin and yang of pocket protector meets processing! Where she speaks in binary black and whites, I speak in emotional grays. Where she mulls things over in a calm, robotic orderly fashion and comes to a conclusion three days later, I say everything I’m feeling immediately, emphasizing that these potentially conflicting emotions and thoughts are all true because I’m feeling them all. The other night K asked me, piteously, “But how can I take you at your word if there are so many words?” I just looked at her meaningfully. Continue reading Elisabeth: Why Marriage Requires a Number Two Pencil

Posted in: Marriage Equality, Planning, Wedding Undergraduates | 60 Comments »