Going to the chapel – who, me?

Originally published June 5, 2014 

I could not imagine that the future I was walking toward could compare in any way to the past that I was leaving behind. (Nelson Mandela)

No one believes me when I tell them I’m so gay I dated two girls at the same time in high school, and they both knew it—and each other. Oh, people believe the first part…I’m so gay…just not the last part.

But no matter how much I ‘experimented’ with the heterosexual model, it was always going to be minus the sexual part. No one would believe it anyway.

I grew up believing I would never be married.

It was one of my first clues, actually. I liked girls; I just didn’t want to have sex with them. Once I realized that, my options changed considerably. In short, I grew up believing I would never be married.

Since the Supreme Court struck down Section 3 of the (so-called) Defense of Marriage Act (DOMA) last year, 13 states have had their bans on marriage for lesbian and gay couples overturned. As of now, 19 states and the District of Columbia allow all couples within their borders to join together in marriage.

Now, I believe I was wrong. I know I was wrong.

It wasn’t long after the Supreme Court handed down its decision that my lover, my boyfriend, my longtime companion, my significant other, my domestic partner (all the same person, by the way) and I decided to become husbands.

After 38 years, it seemed the thing to do.

As unromantic as that sounds, it points out one small issue lesbian and gay couples have had through time: what to call one’s spouse. It’s not the most important issue, by any means, but ‘husband’ and ‘married’ come with consistent legal truth, acknowledgment, responsibility, protection, and opportunity. If that isn’t a reason for cake, I don’t know what is.

Unfortunately, we are still in the queue for our just dessert. We live in Georgia, which I’m sure will have to be dragged through the cotton fields of Marriage Equality kicking and screaming. For now, we will have to take the Underground Railroad to the American Dream.

I will now interrupt myself for a mild rant.

Sorry, Georgia, no marriage license revenues for you. No flowers will be bought. No centerpieces will be made. No one will fly here or take up room in a hotel. No lavish dinners anywhere. No alcohol. No catering. No servers. No photographers. No small entrepreneurial start-ups. No new jobs. No increase to your state coffers. According to some sources, the average cost of a wedding in Georgia is $30,000. Some would be happy to pay that much. Whatever we spend, Georgia, we will be spending it somewhere else.

And now back to the post and planning the wedding of our lives.

Since we had to go somewhere to get married, what place could be more meaningful than the home of the Supreme Court that gave us this right—Washington, D.C.? We would have preferred Colorado (where we met and have family and friends), but Marriage Equality hasn’t arrived there yet. California was also a contender, since we lived there a good number of years, but that’s the other coast. D.C., on the other hand, is a day’s drive from home, and they haven’t yet had the pleasure of our company. Given my little rant, we believe it a significant act of gratitude.

We’ve tentatively reserved a hotel room. I say tentatively because my fiance’s inner travel agent will have him researching hotels right up to a week before we go. He’ll change the reservation about a dozen times. I don’t mind, it’s not about the room. Until after the wedding, that is.

Our anniversary is in June, but the next few months in D.C., I’m told, is not ideal. In fact, one friend tweeted, ‘Summer in DC is not like summer anywhere else. It’s like being soaking wet 6 inches from the noon day sun. It is hell!’ I have a feeling my friend has never been to Georgia. OK, we’ll go in autumn.

The ceremony will be small and simple, perhaps just us and our officiant. It’s not the size of the wedding that matters, after all, it’s what you do with the marriage. We have 38 loving years of working that out, so far. We are the perfect men for each other and we continue to fix each other so we love each other more.

Now that the hard parts are out of the way, we have the big decisions to make. We still have to find wedding rings. Who knew there were so many options: gold, silver, palladium, titanium, platinum…it baubles the mind.

Then there’s what to wear. I think we can all agree that since the wedding is after Labor Day, neither of us has to worry about wearing white.

No one would believe it anyway.

We've been told we clean up nicely.