I know that homophobia exists in many cultures and even within our own. In this day and age, can you believe that people are ostracized, beaten, jailed, or even killed for being gay? It’s not a choice, people, trust me. I chose heterosexuality for many years, and it ultimately rejected me.
With these rampant prejudices in mind, I consider myself a lucky gay person. I have had to deal with very little negativity for being gay. When I was younger, I was more often confronted with homophobia, and maybe that’s why I waited until I was in my 30s to choose gayhood.
J. and I are very matter of fact with people about our sinful relationship. Does that make it easier for people to accept us? I don’t know because I don’t have anything to compare our experience to. There have been unusual moments, like the time a hospital worker asked my very gay male friend if he was my husband, even though my very devoted female partner was the one visiting me for hours every day.
Unspoken homophobia reared its ugly head when, after years of begging, J. finally agreed to marry me, and I was tasked with finding a marriage commissioner. I was upfront about the “two girls” part in my initial contacts with commissioners, and did not even hear back from the majority I contacted, even though all Alberta commissioners are required to marry couples of different religions, sexual or gender identities, or even heights. Yes, commissioners must marry tall women and short men, whether they want to or not. One commissioner told me she had married one other gay couple–gay marriage had been legal in Canada for 8 years by that time–but her voice betrayed her discomfort. Would I want a person like that sealing our deal?
We did finally find someone who was more than willing to join us in holy matrimony, but not without a lot of searching. And boy was I glad we had married when I became very ill and landed in hospital a few months after our wedding. Marriage ensures that J. is the doctors’ primary contact and the one who can make decisions on my behalf. And she needed to be my voice on many occasions during my prolonged stays.
Our difficulty finding a commissioner prompted J. to take the bull by the horns. She put her name forward for the job and, lo and behold, she was recently granted the authority to wed people. First, she had to ace a gruelling interview that included her performing a mock ceremony. A plant stood in as one member of the couple and a lamp as the other.
Yes, J. can now marry you, if you need marrying, that is. I may be biased but I think she’s the perfect person for the job. She won’t have any trouble marrying tall people to short people, black people to white people, or even girls to boys. She is funny, confident, and well spoken, and can put anyone at ease.
As she sets up her business, her talented friend, P., is creating the website to end all websites, and she’s including pictures of P.’s own bi-racial wedding. J. has set her new cellphone ringer to–what else?–Mendelssohn’s wedding march. Her branding is almost complete. She is holding off on the personalized licence plate for now, though. What do you think of I DO I DOS? Our friend, W., came up with that. Nice ring to it, don’t you think?