Tuesday, October 26, 2010
30 Days of Truth: Day Eighteen
I'm a hypocrite. I don't believe in marriage. At all. (Read all about it here.) Yet I just celebrated, with great joy, one of my very best friend's marriage. Really, I couldn't be more thrilled for them. The pictures made me cry.
I don't believe a union needs to be sanctified by any church.
I don't believe a union needs to be acknowledged by a government.
Gone are the days when such a union meant protecting and/or receiving property. Gone are the days when a partner was considered chattel (thank all the gods).
A couple of weeks ago a friend of Steve's was over. They were working on a project until the wee hours of the morning. As midnight approached and I wandered through the living room, the friend looked at me and said, "I'm sorry for taking your husband away from you for the evening... I mean... your.. uh... your boyfriend... uh... your man... Shit. I'm sorry." I had to laugh. Steve and I chuckled over the moment and his buddy's discomfort the next day. I said, to me it doesn't matter what the titles are - if two people are together, then they're together.
Still, I search for an adequate way to define him as "my man." I don't like the use of partner (for straight or gay purposes) because it sounds too cold, like a business relationship. I don't like boyfriend, girlfriend because that makes it sound like I should have some yarn wrapped around his class ring so it fits on my finger. I tend to use mate, but only because it's the closest I can come to something that works for me, something that catches the primeval thing within each of us that binds us together. We're mated. For life. Still, "mate" makes it sound as though we're swinging from the chandeliers having wild jungle sex. Not that I'm opposed or disinclined. Also, "mate" in certain cultures simply refers to someone as a friend, and he's far more than my friend. Lover? Sounds as though we're sneaking off to motels during the day... again, not opposed or disinclined. But... *sigh*
What was the question?
Sure, let 'em get married if that's what they want. Why the hell not? Are they going to be any more or less together either way? No. And if they've found love and they want an official binding of that love, groovy. I'll dance at the wedding and eat the cake, hypocrite that I am. Because the whole time I'll be thinking they could have skipped all the bourgeois crapola, gone to Cabo instead, held hands and kissed on the beach, and kept it at, "I love you. You love me. Let's be us. Always." Done deal.
Posted by Barb Black at 6:05:00 AM