Thoughts on Marriage: Same-sex and Otherwise

 

I have been married three times.  Actually four, if you count the illegal one.

My first was to a guy I met when I was twenty.  We married two years later.  I don't know why I needed to grow up so fast.  Maybe it was so I could reverse age.  (I do feel younger now than I did then!)

My second was the illegal one.  We couldn't marry legally because we were both women.  But in February 2004, the city of San Francisco announced it was giving marriage licenses to same-sex couples.  So we high-tailed it to city hall and married on the spot. Six months later we were among 4,000 couples to have our marriage ruled void by the Supreme Court of California.

That didn't feel too good.

But then, a few years later, same-sex marriage was ruled legal in California.  So we got hitched again.  Legalization was short-lived.  Six months later, Prop 8 passed and same-sex marriage again became illegal.  But our marriage--along with about 100,000 others--was kept in tact.  Talk about weird: some same-sex couples remained married while others were banned from getting married.

It was then obvious to me that there was an irreversible crack in the system.  "Everything has a crack in it, that's how the light gets in," Leonard Cohen once wrote.  In light of all these rulings, and in light of what was happening in other states (and countries), and in light of more and more same-sex couples and their families talking about how marriage related to their life experiences, everyone's awareness seemed to be expanding. 

In direct proportion to that growth, my relationship was dying.  We'd been together for fifteen years, but just six months after our legal marriage, we were falling apart.  Marriage Equality for us now meant Divorce Equality.  Kinky Friedman put it best when he said:  "I support gay marriage.  I believe they have a right to be as miserable as the rest of us."

We went through the usual ugly things peoplego through when they get divorced. And then I experienced what a lot of people do after a dark night of the soul:  A rebirth.  A transformation.  You know:  Ashes, Phoenix.  I have forgiven myself and all involved.  I've let it go.  I can now see how much the experience helped me grow.  It wasn't easy to get here, but it's a fabulous place to be.

My fourth marriage?  It happened last year.  I was very aware when Dave and I decided to get married that our genders made it possible. I also thought about how once he and I got married, no one else could take it away.

On the other hand, it was also clear to me what direction history was headed in.  After all, it wasn't until 1967 that the ban on interracial marriage--still existent in 16 states--was overturned by the Supreme Court.  And it wasn't long ago that husbands weren't allowed in the delivery room.  (Some men handcuffed themselves to their wives when they went into labor.)  Hell, in the scope of time, it wasn't very long ago that Americans could own other human beings because their skin was the color of our current President. 

So no matter what the Supreme Court rules, now that it's begun deliberations on the issue, I have no doubt same-sex marriage will, one day, be as much a no-brainer here as it in in Canada, the Netherlands, and Spain, among other countries. (UPDATE: June 26, 2015: Supreme Court gives a thumb's up to marriage equality!)

But back to me.  Some people thought I was crazy to re-marry.  Really?  Get married again, after what you went through?

And my answer:  Yes.  What good is growing if you don't get to embrace what you've learned?   The reality is that we change and grow.  And sometimes we can do that within the boundaries of our marriages, and sometimes we can't.

Obviously, there's something about being married that I like.  My life has been enriched by each relationship I've had.  I can see now that marriage is not a panacea.  I get so much joy out of creating a world with Dave.  I'm grateful we both bring to this marriage a lot of life experience and inner work.  But marriage does not bring happiness.  I bring my happiness to it. 

Wild about Cheryl and Dave

Cheryl Strayed's Wild, her captivating memoir about hiking the Pacific Crest Trail alone, is like potato chips.  Those yummy, addictive, thick-cut kind.  I've been eating for hours, the bag is still half-full, and I can't put it down.  Fortunately, unlike chips, the book isn't fattening.

Wild about Cheryl

We leave for Hawaii in two days.  I'm not packed.  Still have laundry to do. And this blog entry to write.  And eggs to stuff with poems. And I've completed only two of my four syllabi for fall.  I'm justifying my hours with the book because it's a fat hardback that would take up too much space in my carry-on.  I need to finish it so I can bring a small paperback instead.

As I read the book, I'm reminded of the only time I did something similar:  I once hiked alone for five hours across a volcano.  On the very island we are going to Monday to get married.

Wild about Dave

Then again, I suppose another similar event would be having sold everything I owned at age 29 and taking off to Japan alone to teach English.  My first taste of sushi was on the flight across the Pacific.  My first attempt to learn some Japanese phrases also occurred on that flight, as I was tutored by the passenger sitting next to me.  I was as unprepared for Japan as Cheryl was for the trail.  But I plunged off the cliff and, to paraphrase Ray Bradbury, my wings unfolded on the way down.

It's fun to be reminded of all of these life adventures now as I'm embarking on a lovely new chapter of my life:  Marrying Dave.  It's wonderful to be creating a life together, enriched by our combined 100 years of experience.  We've both had our "starter marriages" (okay, I've had two, but who's counting).  We've both traveled the world--often alone.  We've both been enriched on the journey of discovering what's important to us.

In other words, we come together as veterans of life, complete with scars and medals (dare I say Purple Hearts?) and the camaraderie of a rich group of friends. 

Forty of these friends will be with us in Hawaii.

Beach at A-Bay

Initially we thought our wedding would be a tiny affair--just Dave, me, and two witnesses with our toes in the sand.  We'd decided on this tact after we serendipitously discovered that at the same time we'd planned to be on the Big Island, his sister and brother-in-law would also be there.  Soon after we'd decided on north of Kona as our wedding spot, we sent out an Evite to some close friends and family  inviting them to join us if they were so inclined.  We had no expectations that more than four or five would come.  In fact, we let everyone know we'd have a one-year anniversary party in Santa Cruz next summer so we could all celebrate together.

Suddenly RSVP's were rolling in.  More people than we'd imagined were jazzed about a destination wedding.  Dave fantasized that we'd be able to stay with these friends in a beach-front locale, spend a lot of time together before and after the wedding.

So I contacted my friend Amy, who lives on the Big Island, to ask if she had some ideas.  She told me about a brand-new place being built on the very beach where I'd imagined getting married.  It wasn't open yet but would be by July.  She described it as beautiful, toes-in-the-sand, casual yet elegant.  She said Scott, the guy opening the place, was well-known on the island as an excellent restauranteur.

Lava Lava bungalow lanai

I contacted Scott who told me that the new Lava Lava Beach Club had an open-air restaurant, four bungalows, and a private party spot right on the beach.  Fast forward:  Our "non-rehearsal" dinner is taking place at the restaurant, our wedding and reception in the private party spot, and our friends have filled the bungalows. 

And how's this for another serendipity:  Dave's long-time friend Jim reconnected with a cousin who lives in Kona to tell her he'd love to see her again.  Turns out, this cousin is best friends with Scott, the Lava Lava Beach Club owner.  Now the cousin and her husband are joining us for the non-rehearsal dinner.

Jim told Dave and me that he's grateful that this wedding is reconnecting his family.  The wedding has also brought together two new couples.  One of Dave's long-time friends, and one of mine, have each invited a new amiga to Hawaii. 

And to top it off:  Two couples we'd invited had already tossed around the idea of coming to Hawaii to celebrate their joint 10-year wedding anniversaries.  So getting the Evite was like a message from the universe shouting, YES, do it!  Years ago, these couples met through each other.  The woman from one couple was the wedding officiant at the other couple's wedding.  And vice-versa, the man in the other couple officiated at the other wedding.  Each couple has a nine-year-old (one's a girl, one's a boy), who are best friends and will be throwing flower petals on everyone at our ceremony.

friends old and new

As if that's not enough...my sister threw me a GNO party (I'm too seasoned to call it a "bachelorette").  The limo-ride-wine-tasting-dinner-and-dancing bacchanalia brought together an array of my friends, creating a whole new web of interconnections.  In the aftermath, it's been fabulous to see all of them friending each other on Facebook.  The web expands!

The GNO event had quite a profound effect on my friend Daisy, which she wrote about so eloquently on her blog.  I'm flushed with gratitude as I read what she wrote.  She captured the fact that life experiences lead one to the next.

We get to choose:  Will the past drag us down, or will it enrich who we are? 

Aloha.

Bigger worlds

Annie and I have set a date: July 27. Yes, after 14 years we're tying the knot.

I suppose this means we'll actually have an anniversary date. We've gone around and around about that over the years. At first we thought it should be at the end of January, the month we met. Then we thought it should be in May, the month we moved in together and made personal vows to each other on the beach (the primary one being that we would never squelch the other person, always striving to make each other's world bigger).

For those keeping track, yes we committed to each other just 4 months after we met. In stereotypical fashion, we fit the lesbians-renting-a-UHaul-on-their-second-date profile. Fortunately, we ended up liking each other once the Big Buzz mutated to, well, love.

When we married on February 14 four years ago, we figured that was our anniversary. How sweet, Valentine's Day and all that. But we never seemed to do much on that day. Since we're not big Valentine's people (not being thrilled at having corporate America's trinkets as symbols for our union), the anniversary fell by the wayside.

So now, July 27 it will be.

We're going to have a small ceremony (about 30 guests) at the beach in Santa Cruz followed by dinner at one of our favorite Santa Cruz restaurants. Just our style, relaxed and understated. Intimate and fun. Beachy and low on the stress.

If I think I don't look like a total dork in any of the pictures (to be taken by a wonderful photographer and good friend), I'll post some here late summer.

Notes from One Wedding Chickie

Not Annie and Me On Our Wedding Day

My piece about Annie and me getting married in San Francisco was just published here, on a website called weddingchickie.com. The focus of the site is "Advice and Commentary for the Savvy Bride." Very cool that it includes weddings with two brides.

And guess what? I actually got paid for the piece. $150, not shabby. Especially since it was previously published in a small literary journal.

This is all good news on a day when I can use good news. It's only been a little over a month since my father died, and I can feel my skin crawling from residues of stress and grief. I feel like I've been on a speeding train since his death: all the calls and vistors, planning the service, holding the service, mom falls and breaks her arm and moves in with me, seeing her daily reminds me of our big loss, helping her bathe and dress and all that reminds me of everything she's been through, I continue teaching, face a mountain of papers to grade, Virginia Tech happens so here come stressors of even BEING on a campus, we're studying the devastating sitatuion in Iraq in one of my classes, I didn't get a job I applied for, we almost went out on strike, now I'm involved with students in protesting fee hikes ... Seems appropriate that this is one big run-on, with unparallel structure. Grammar be damned when life is like this.

And thank goddess for humor. Laughing reminds me to breathe. (My dad used to say, "You can either laugh or cry. I 'd rather laugh.")

And biggest of all thank goddess for Annie. Marrying her was the best decision of my life.