By Sarah Mieras
Ten, five, even three years ago if someone had told me I would be planning a wedding, even considering wearing a wedding dress, I would have laughed. After all, marriage is just a construct of the patriarchy established to ensure that men's land was passed down to their rightful heirs. As a lesbian, and obviously a feminist, there was little need in my life, or my relationship for a "wedding."
Today though, I find myself discussing flowers, reception locations and vows. I blame Proposition 2 for my sudden change in heart.
The Proposition, which unfortunately passed, aimed to ban gay marriage in the State of Michigan. As a field organizer for the Coalition for a Fair Michigan I found myself engaged in a constant conversation about the meaning of marriage. As I knocked on doors and chatted with voters at phone banks it became clear to me that marriage in our society is much more than a religious ceremony or an antiquated construct to control women. It is a social right of passage. It is a public celebration of a couple's love. It is a legal contract binding until death with over 1,000 instant benefits. It is a covenant made between two people before an audience of their friends and family.
My work on the campaign made me sad. It wasn't just the encounters with freaky people who believed that somehow allowing queers to marry would destroy the foundation of our universe. It was the realization that I had internalized the homophobia I had set out to overcome. I had convinced myself I didn't want something because a very loud and hateful portion of society told me I couldn't have it. I had even convinced myself other queers who decided to get married were "trying to be straight."
Since I consider myself an exceptionally evolved being, these realizations took me by surprise, prompting conversations with my partner that lasted well beyond Election day. Many a evening we sat and discussed how unfair it was that we couldn't have the legal benefits that most straight couples take for granted. We griped about the family obligations of celebrating the unions of cousins and other family members who had known one another a fraction of the time that we had been together. Although we never said it so frankly, as a couple we wanted our friends and family to respect our commitment to one another. We wanted in short to be treated like we were married.
Still, it came as a huge surprise when my girlfriend "popped the question." She looked scared. She wanted to talk. I thought it was time to look at the bills. Instead she got on one knee, pulled me into her chest and slipped a delicate emerald ring on my finger, asking me to marry her. Despite my shock, I said, "yes." A few months later I did the same to her and the planning of our not so legal, but very heartfelt union began.
With the discussions about Prop 2 under our belt telling our families was easy. We had already argued our case for the need for queers everywhere to be able to openly and honestly profess their love and commitment. In fact, many people said, "It's about time, you two are the most married people I know."
And so the planning began, and continues for a fabulous wedding that will take place on our 10-year anniversary. As politically savvy queer consumers who happen to live in West Michigan's Bible Belt we are working hard to line up caterers and vendors that aren't just "ok" with a lesbian wedding, but supportive and affirming. We are approaching our invitation list the same way. You see, we don't "have" to get married. We are choosing to get married. Choosing to make a public announcement of our love and we are going to enjoy every minute of the attention.
I can't lie though, we are also going to greatly enjoy the huge political statement getting "married" after Prop 2 makes. Especially now, with such a hateful law, queer weddings are an act of protest and love. The fact is even though "it's not legal" we are willing to stand up and say we are in love. After all, do you think straight couples would stop getting married if it didn't have any legal benefits?
