Skip to main content

My Marriage


Marriage is for procreation.
Really?  THAT is your argument?  That marriage’s sole purpose is to repopulate our country?  If it weren’t such an offensive “debate” point, I would probably laugh.

I am a supporter of equal rights.  EQUALITY, to me, is a founding principle of civility.  Equal rights for ALL – women, people of color, immigrants, and yes – the LGBT community.  I do not, cannot, understand how those opposed to equality can choose to ignore our country’s recent past; when interracial couples were not allowed to marry, African Americans had to drink from separate water fountains, and women – our Great-Aunts and Grandmothers – were not allowed to vote.   What has erased these sad parts of our history in their minds and made it “okay” for them to replicate the discrimination now?  How is it even DEBATABLE that all Americans should or should not be treated equally? 
Now back to their “argument”.  Marriage is for procreation.  So my marriage is not valid.  Not correct.  Not appropriate.  Inadequate.  Not LEGAL??

Screw you.  Marriage is not about bringing more children into the world.  Marriage is about LOVE.  About laughter.  And kindness.  Respect.  Discovery.  And travel, exploration, tenderness, caring, and a million other things.  Children can be one of those things, but they are NOT a requirement.  And my marriage is not a sham. 
You know what IS a sham?  That those on the side of hatred think they can get away with this.  That they think their narrow minded definition of what is “right” is what should guide our country.  THEY ARE WRONG.  And if DOMA does not get overturned in this go round, it WILL EVENTUALLY.  Because my marriage is not a sham, and neither are those of gay and lesbian couples.
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Content to Live

This is 59. Birthday photo 2025 - National Arboretum in the rain It is a strange age. It’s older than my sister Annette ever got to experience. It is on the verge of “old”.   Or wait, is it old?   Is it just that what “old” is keeps getting pushed back further and further, so actually we hit it a long time ago? I don’t feel “old”. But, as always for a decade or so, I feel “resolute”.   I feel “accepting”.   I feel realistic . I know my time on earth is limited, and I know I have used up over half of it. Some of it I wasted – watching movies but not really paying attention, sleeping, dusting (though to be honest I have not wasted much time on that one, one look at our house will tell you that). Some of it I relished - skiing down mountains, splashing in waterfalls and ocean waves, looking out at cornfields, clouds, and forests from high in the sky. Some of it I suffered – watching loved ones die, witnessing friendships fading away,...
1 comment
Read more

Damn Skin

I honestly don’t know how long it has been there.  David and I both have this sort of weird disassociation with time – him much worse than me.  But both of us really don’t have a handle on how long things are, how far in the past they were, etc.  It is like time blurs or something (which is why neither of us can ever, for the life of us, remember what anniversary we are on until we count back). So, filling out the blank on the processing questionnaire that asks “How long has this issue been there” is sort of impossible.  But how do you explain to medical professionals that you DON’T KNOW?  So I lie.  “Around a year, maybe a year and a half…”.  I could just write “Your guess is as good as mine”, but that would be even less helpful and harder to explain, so I assign a number.  So yeah, I have this “bump”.  That’s what I called it.  A “bump” on the right side of the bridge of my nose, very near my eye.  It has been there “for...
6 comments
Read more

The Girl Who Can't Ride a Bike

I am “the girl who can’t ride a bike”. I guess to be accurate, I should say that I WAS “the girl who can’t ride a bike”.   But it was such a big part of my identity growing up, that the never formalized (but often teased about) nickname stuck in my psyche. You know how most kids love to jump on their bikes and pedal around the neighborhood once they have figured out how to balance, brake, and GO?   Yeah, that wasn’t me.   I wasn’t that kid. I am not sure WHAT really happened. The one thing I do remember is being on a bike in my family’s garage in Omaha, Nebraska trying to ride my bike.   It must’ve been winter, otherwise, why wouldn’t I have been outdoors??   But I think my foot slipped off the pedal and I know for sure my knee hit the handlebar.   It hurt.   I remember crying. But I am guessing that it hurt my pride more than it hurt my knee.   I think I was already past the age where kids were “supposed” to ride a bike. ...
7 comments
Read more