Same-sex marriage is still not legal and it’s enabling your homophobic relatives (and mine).
It’s the 31st of July 2016, and I proposed to my girlfriend just yesterday. We have known each other since 2008, but have been together for almost 4 years. We’ve been following a typical relationship trajectory in my opinion. We did the ‘I love you’s’ a few months in, moved in together about a year later and have two dogs. We’ve loved and supported each other through difficulties, and celebrated and praised each other’s victories. We bring out the best side of one another, and there is no one I would rather spend my life with.
Anyone who has met us can tell how good we are for each other, and how much we’ve brought to each others life. I proposed to my girlfriend yesterday and that means some day in the future we’ll get married. We have been inundated with celebratory messages, well wishes and so much love from our friends and family…mostly. I asked my girlfriends parents permission and they were excited. They said I was already part of the family. My girlfriend’s mother said she was thankful her daughter had met someone as delightful as me, and she’s so happy to have a fourth daughter. This meant the world to me, and I’ll never forget it.
I told my own mother that I intended on asking Rebecca to marry me and her first reaction was “What does that mean..legally?” This threw me, but it’s a fair enough question. I said ‘Never mind that Ma, the country is catching up with the rest of the world, we’ll get there!’ Her second and final question was “Oh what about Martine?”
Martine is my older sister, she just got engaged
to her boyfriend a month ago. ‘What about Martine?’ I thought. “What do
you mean, mum? Like..i’m stealing her thunder? You had 7 children, the
likelihood of two of them being engaged at the same time is pretty high..I
think she’ll just be happy for me Ma..”
“Oh yeah, you’re probably right. Well, anyway, I spoke to Sue and Dennis the
other day because I booked my flights for Perth next year which is exciting..”
“..Yeah it is Ma, when are you going again?” I was confused. Was that it? The
subject then changed, and that was that. I thought, ‘I must have just
blindsided her’, I figured she didn’t know what to say so she does what we
always do in our family- avoid talking about it.
I sent her a text message afterwards, which was cowardly but I said that I was sorry if that was out of the blue, but I’m making the right decision and I was nervous at how she would react, but I just want her to be happy for me. She replied and said she was, and I left it at that.
This made me increasingly nervous about telling my father. My dad has accepted Rebecca into our family as best as he can. He has always treated her nicely and been very welcoming and I’ve always been appreciative of that. My dad doesn’t talk about things. My dad comes from a family where gay is wrong and there are no two ways about it. My dad grew up with his cousin Michael. They were good friends from what little I have heard, but Michael grew up and transitioned to Molly. Molly was cut out of the family like you would a clipping from the newspaper, never spoken of again. Like she never existed. Molly died at some point over the last decade, and none of her family went to the funeral. I can’t even remember what family member told me about her. Maybe it was my Uncle Greg. Greg is about 55 years old, he is a hairdresser in Double Bay. He hosts the greatest Christmas parties at his beautiful home in the northern beaches. Greg wheels out the piano after a few vinos if you’re lucky and treats his guests to show tunes. “Does Greg have a boyfriend?” I asked my parents one day.. ”Greg’s not gay” my dad replied. “Um..DAD. Please. Uncle Greg the hairdresser? UNCLE GREG. The most fabulous man I’ve ever met? Are you kidding?” It was at this point I realized my dad’s ability to not see what he didn’t want to was much stronger than I’d originally thought.
When I was 17 my friend lent me her copy of The L word on DVD. This show is dreadful, but every single lesbian you’ve ever met has watched it, and if they say they haven’t, they’re lying. I couldn’t exactly watch it on the family TV, not in my little suburban catholic household, so I was watching it on Dad’s portable DVD player in my room. One Saturday morning after I’d slept at a friend’s place I arrived home and saw the little DVD player in the lounge room. ‘Oh dear, He’s seen it. He’s seen I’m watching The L word. Fuck, maybe he doesn’t know what it is?’ I thought maybe I could just grab the DVD player and run it back to my room. I went to pick it up when Dad came out of the kitchen holding the DVD in his hand and my heart dropped. He said “Are you watching this?” and I remember feeling angry and anxious, these were my two classic go-to feelings throughout most of my teens. They still kind of are. I felt mad that he had gone into my room. “Yes I am watching it can I have it back?” and in the most childish way I’ve ever seen my father act he said “What? Are you learning to become a lesbian?” I was firstly shocked that he had actually said the word lesbian. I was then taken aback by what an immature thing that was for him to say. If he wasn’t being serious it would have been really funny. So I replied accordingly “Yeah dad, I’m learning to become a lesbian. They send out free lessons on DVD now. Handy, right? No dad, I just AM one.” After that day I didn’t speak to my dad for over a year. I don’t even remember how we started talking again, but we’ve never brought it up.
I hadn’t even thought about how my dad acted that day for ages until yesterday. The last time I thought about it was when I told Rebecca about it on the drive home from my nieces’ holy confirmation about 2 years ago. My eldest sister Kate had invited Rebecca and I to the confirmation and then we had plans to have a pub lunch with my other sister Liz and her husband Ben afterwards. I hadn’t seen them for months and was really looking forward to catching up. Lunch plans changed though, and Kate invited us to go to her friend’s place where all the parents of the other kids getting confirmed were going. This friend happened to live on a vineyard so we thought an afternoon wine would be great. We took the wrong exit off the highway and got a little bit lost so Rebecca and I were the last ones to arrive. We got to the door of her friends house and there was a large crucifix made out of marble right near the entryway. It reminded me of my parent’s house. We walked in and said hi to everyone, my sister introduced us to her friends; “Everyone this is my little sister Amy and this is Bec”…or “This is my little sister Amy and her friend Bec.” I felt disappointed in her. I also remember thinking “I don’t think you are giving this room full of adults enough credit, I don’t think they’re going to care that we’re together..Its 2014”. I thought this, until the host of the party started speaking to us. She was being friendly and warm at the beginning. She thought we were friends. I remember saying “Oh no I’ve moved to Canberra, Bec and I live together” and I saw the penny drop in this ladies eyes. She couldn’t get away from us sooner. In the car on the way home I told Bec how disappointed I was in my big sister. I remember saying if Rebecca were a boy she would have said, “This is my little sister Amy and her boyfriend Robert or whatever”. I kept thinking ‘am I being petty?’ but the more I thought about it, the more I realised, in that moment, she traded my comfort for her own. It might sound like a small thing, but by not introducing Rebecca as my partner to her homophobic friends, she left it to us to tell them..because she was worried about what they might think, and judging by the host’s reaction- she was right to be worried. We started feeling very unwelcome and we left quickly.
My sister Kate got married when I was 9. I remember being so excited at her wedding. I remember thinking how embarrassing it was that you had to kiss each other in front of everyone in the church and that i’d never get married. My parents welcomed my brother-in-law into the family with open arms. My brother got married shortly after that when I was 12. He had been dating his wife since I was 4. They were high-school sweethearts and they had their reception on a boat. I don’t have any memories of them living without one another, as far as I can remember, Lauren’s always been my family. My sister Liz got married last year. Her husband is just an all-round good guy. He is protective of our family, and my parents were so happy they were getting married.
I proposed to my girlfriend and my parents were underwhelmed. They did not react how they had when my siblings had got engaged. All I’ve been able to do since is question myself, and ask myself if I’ve done something wrong. Did I prepare them enough? Do they need more time? Maybe they just need to come around to the idea? But the truth is, their first reaction will always be the same. Even if they come around in a week, or a year, or three..They can’t undo their initial reaction…and that’s on them.
It’s 2016, same-sex marriage is still not legal in this country and Pauline Hanson is back in the Senate. I feel like we keep taking one step forward and four steps back. It feels like the homophobes, the racists and the bigots are still the majority and that fact pulls on my heart in the heaviest way.
I went to church every Sunday until I finished high school. I believe my moral compass was cast from the lessons I learned during the countless hours I spent in church. It gave me time to think. I understand why people are religious. This world is magnificent but parts of it are so ugly they’re almost incomprehensible. I think religion tries to make sense of a world that doesn’t make any sense. The problem with that is, the world has changed, laws have changed, attitudes and people have changed but the bible stays the same. I am thankful for the person my religious upbringing taught me to be, but I am disappointed in the way it gives people an excuse to be intolerant towards me and my girlfriend and millions others like just us. That intolerance feels very un-Christian if you ask me..
I told my Dad I proposed to Rebecca and he said “Well, I’ll never be able to see it as a ‘marriage’, I don’t see how you could ever have that. I don’t think its right but I’m happy you’re happy. The rest is my problem I guess”. And he’s right. It is his problem, but that doesn’t make it okay. He said “I’m happy for you. I never thought I’d be able to say that you know? And it’s still hard” I said “I know Dad. And that’s sad.”
It’s 2016 and same-sex marriage is still not legal in this country. The homophobes, racists and bigots are still the majority. I caught myself saying something the other day like ‘Who the hell are these people that care whether two women or two men are together? Why does it matter to anyone? Who would care enough to vote against same-sex marriage?’ and it’s easy to think of ‘these people’ as a faceless bunch of strangers, but these people are my parents. These people are your backwards cousin’s you’ve got hidden from your facebook feed. These people are not strangers at all. And these people are free to marry whomever they please, and I’m sure they have never had anyone imply to them ‘I’m happy for you, but your love means less than mine does..’
