Love is a monogendered thing
May. 21st, 2002 10:10 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
beetigerWell, at least sometimes.
I went to a lesbian wedding this weekend. The route we took to the little suburban home of the couple was rather inefficient and circuitous, despite the clear directions we'd been given. This led me to the revelation that perhaps I was not the person with the absolute worst natural sense of direction in the universe, and that occasionally, I should trust my gut rather than listening to a driving companion with even less familiarity driving around the region than I do. Nevertheless, we managed to pull up to the house just at the official arrival time, thanks to my tendency to make up for my lack of internal compass by leaving insanely early.
The weather was just a hint on the chilly side of perfect. The backyard hadn't been decorated much, just some folding chairs near the grove where the ceremony would be held, big blue and white tents with round tables set up for the feast afterward.
There was about an hour to mill about with the other guests, a collection of former and current Harvard students and people who do the midnight floor show at Rocky Horror and computer geeks, none particularly dressed to any sort of wedding standard, flamboyant dresses and sedate blue ties and jackets mixing with heavy cabled sweaters, casual sweatshirts, floppy black hats. Finally, we were seated, the ceremony programs passed out after only a little bit of a teasing reminder to the master of ceremonies (aka the brides' housemate). The brides walked out together in clothing that one of them had sewn for the event, one in a full-bodiced dress in cream and a muted green, the other in a matching jacket and slacks. It looked just right.
The core of the ceremony was something wonderful I'd never seen done before. Four different married couples, lesbian, gay, and straight, stood up and gave the couple well-considered advice on the nature of permanent partnership. One man spoke on the importance of holding hands, and of the beauty of developing tiny personal gestures that can quickly express love and caring in public places. Another shared a secret that all people who live with another for a long time discover: although you will live through the best of times, and the worse of times together, that the daily joy comes from sharing those regular times together that are neither particularly bad or good. Waking up, eating leftovers, paying bills.
A friend of the couple did the blessing, stretching colored ribbons between the women to represent the Triple Goddess, describing in a clear, bright voice the meanings of the symbol of Oak that the couple had chosen. Somewhere behind her words I could hear dozens of discussions with the celebrants, back and forth, perhaps in their living room, perhaps by email, piecing together just what it was they wanted to be said.
The couple spoke much more quietly as they exchanged their vows with each other, and it was rather hard to hear them. This actually freed me to spend less of my focus on the words, and more of them on the two women's faces as they spoke to one another, radiant with joy, slightly teary, and the sound of their voices, soft, catching a bit in the throat here and there with emotion. Perfect.
The guests all signed a beautiful wall-hanging, as witnesses to the vows, and it was done. Clever conversation with the very interesting guests combined with indulgent Southern barbecue and some of the best pies I'd eaten in some time ensued.
More than any wedding I've been to in a long time, it seemed somehow as if everything was exactly as the people getting married wanted. No flowers, no garters, no white dresses, no multitiered cake, no Macarena. Perhaps most importantly, I'm guessing that no one was making them do this. If there was any family of either the brides at the event, they were not featured in the ceremony and did not otherwise make themselves obvious. They're not going to get any legal benefits for getting married, since gay marriage isn't legal in most states in the US, certainly not in Massachusetts. So they did this just for themselves, just to have the experience of standing in front of a group of people they cared about, and telling each other how much they loved one another.
And really, that's what it's all about.
*****
Want to help gay and lesbian people get the benefits of legal marriage that heterosexual couples enjoy?
Want to advocate for equality and fairness for unmarried people, including people who choose not to marry, cannot marry, or live together before marriage? Want to learn how to legally protect your relationship(s), even when they are not of a type the government recognizes?
I went to a lesbian wedding this weekend. The route we took to the little suburban home of the couple was rather inefficient and circuitous, despite the clear directions we'd been given. This led me to the revelation that perhaps I was not the person with the absolute worst natural sense of direction in the universe, and that occasionally, I should trust my gut rather than listening to a driving companion with even less familiarity driving around the region than I do. Nevertheless, we managed to pull up to the house just at the official arrival time, thanks to my tendency to make up for my lack of internal compass by leaving insanely early.
The weather was just a hint on the chilly side of perfect. The backyard hadn't been decorated much, just some folding chairs near the grove where the ceremony would be held, big blue and white tents with round tables set up for the feast afterward.
There was about an hour to mill about with the other guests, a collection of former and current Harvard students and people who do the midnight floor show at Rocky Horror and computer geeks, none particularly dressed to any sort of wedding standard, flamboyant dresses and sedate blue ties and jackets mixing with heavy cabled sweaters, casual sweatshirts, floppy black hats. Finally, we were seated, the ceremony programs passed out after only a little bit of a teasing reminder to the master of ceremonies (aka the brides' housemate). The brides walked out together in clothing that one of them had sewn for the event, one in a full-bodiced dress in cream and a muted green, the other in a matching jacket and slacks. It looked just right.
The core of the ceremony was something wonderful I'd never seen done before. Four different married couples, lesbian, gay, and straight, stood up and gave the couple well-considered advice on the nature of permanent partnership. One man spoke on the importance of holding hands, and of the beauty of developing tiny personal gestures that can quickly express love and caring in public places. Another shared a secret that all people who live with another for a long time discover: although you will live through the best of times, and the worse of times together, that the daily joy comes from sharing those regular times together that are neither particularly bad or good. Waking up, eating leftovers, paying bills.
A friend of the couple did the blessing, stretching colored ribbons between the women to represent the Triple Goddess, describing in a clear, bright voice the meanings of the symbol of Oak that the couple had chosen. Somewhere behind her words I could hear dozens of discussions with the celebrants, back and forth, perhaps in their living room, perhaps by email, piecing together just what it was they wanted to be said.
The couple spoke much more quietly as they exchanged their vows with each other, and it was rather hard to hear them. This actually freed me to spend less of my focus on the words, and more of them on the two women's faces as they spoke to one another, radiant with joy, slightly teary, and the sound of their voices, soft, catching a bit in the throat here and there with emotion. Perfect.
The guests all signed a beautiful wall-hanging, as witnesses to the vows, and it was done. Clever conversation with the very interesting guests combined with indulgent Southern barbecue and some of the best pies I'd eaten in some time ensued.
More than any wedding I've been to in a long time, it seemed somehow as if everything was exactly as the people getting married wanted. No flowers, no garters, no white dresses, no multitiered cake, no Macarena. Perhaps most importantly, I'm guessing that no one was making them do this. If there was any family of either the brides at the event, they were not featured in the ceremony and did not otherwise make themselves obvious. They're not going to get any legal benefits for getting married, since gay marriage isn't legal in most states in the US, certainly not in Massachusetts. So they did this just for themselves, just to have the experience of standing in front of a group of people they cared about, and telling each other how much they loved one another.
And really, that's what it's all about.
*****
Want to help gay and lesbian people get the benefits of legal marriage that heterosexual couples enjoy?
Want to advocate for equality and fairness for unmarried people, including people who choose not to marry, cannot marry, or live together before marriage? Want to learn how to legally protect your relationship(s), even when they are not of a type the government recognizes?
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Welcome
Date: 2002-05-22 06:31 am (UTC)I resisted it for a time for similar reasons that you quote in your previous post. I know I should be responding to that one, but this is simpler. For me, I worry about people getting to know me without getting to know me--there's enough of that shit in the fandom as is. But I don't care anymore. If people go to enough trouble to find my LJ from one tiny link on my webpage or through one of my limited friends' lists, then I suppose the idealization / demonization is a bit inevitable. Besides; I am now an addict, and I am weak. And Anna is surprisingly thrilled by anything involving communication over the net, so it's partly for her too.
I like the advocacy links. Funny title to the piece, too. :)
Trickster