News to straights: There is no lifestyle. Shut up. June 29, 2008

I told two of my friends about my relationship with Jade while I was home, and one of them outed me to someone else.

I was furious.

To be fair, I didn’t say to him, don’t tell anybody. Because I’m not ashamed. I also didn’t think I had to.

But what he did was go to the very top of the list of people I didn’t want to tell, and told her. And she tracked me down and called me at my dad’s house. Let me also say she is at the very top of the list of people I never wanted to talk to again, either. I thought my dad was joking when he announced her name from the caller ID. You’re joking, I said. No, he said. I’m glad I didn’t say anything like “What does that bitch want?” because she would’ve heard me.

Maybe straight people don’t know that you’re not supposed to out people if you’re not sure they’re out.

Maybe my friend couldn’t help himself. It was a juicy tidbit, after all. I think he was still reeling. So I left him a message and told him what I thought.

He had a fairly decent reaction to the news, though. Just a few wows and eyes bugged out. And then said that like Seinfeld, his philosophy is “not that there’s anything wrong with that.” Then proceeded to list gay people he knows in his small community. Most of whom said, don’t tell anybody, but you should know …

Maybe that should’ve been his first clue.

I’m not really pissed any more. Amused, I suppose. Telling the one person I never wanted to hear from again (the person I still have nightmares about) isn’t as bad as having the entire office know and offer you congratulations on your wedding.

Also, to be fair to him, this person called him out of the blue, and he’d just heard my news. I suspect he’s probably also still a bit afraid of that person himself. It probably just came out.

As I did.

In other coming outs, I also told a deeply religious friend as we sat near the water, swinging lazily on an adult swinging bench.

She asked me about the ring I was wearing on my left ring finger.

“Is that something special?”

She actually said something about it earlier, but I kind of brushed it off. We were in a restaurant where the last thing you want to do is say the word gay. Because they will lynch you, forks still covered in maple syrup from the excellent pancakes and crepes.

So I told her. I hemmed and hawed a bit. How do you tell your one remaining friend from high school, one who is a teacher missionary to a foreign country? One whose life has always been about loving her god, about serving her god, about helping others?

It didn’t go that badly. I wanted to tell her the truth. Especially since she would like to visit me next summer and I didn’t want to have to sleep separately from Jade. I also knew that it would be just one more thing she’d have to love me in spite of, because I’m also an atheist. She doesn’t push me too hard on the atheism front, which is why we’re still friends.

She said she doesn’t approve of that lifestyle, but that I’m still her friend, and that she wants to include Jade as part of that friendship, because Jade is a part of who I am.

She kept using the lifestyle word, too. Well, I don’t approve of that lifestyle, but I still love you.

I heard that same lifestyle phrase from my aunt and I am currently not happy with my aunt. My aunt, in fact, was supposed to call me back to hear some news I have, and never did. She was also sketchy about whether she could come and visit me while I was staying at my dad’s, and she never got back with me about that either. I suspect she might be having some problems, and if I were a better person, I’d keep trying to get her to call me back. But I’m not her babysitter. Maybe I’m the problem. Maybe she has another problem. But until she can be grown up enough to call me back, I’m done.

I hate that term, lifestyle. There is no one lifestyle. What straight people do is use it as a euphemism for having nasty, disgusting gay sex. It serves as a sanitizing filter in their mind, so they don’t have to think directly about two women making love.
As if sex serves as the only symbol of our relationship. Well, I’m going to say right now: stop using the word lifestyle. There’s no straight lifestyle, and there’s no gay lifestyle. Love does not equal sex. I do not think about you having straight sex. I do not look at you and think, wow, they put the penis in the vagina. How weird and gross! So stop it!

Two homes June 29, 2008

I took a trip back home and just got back yesterday.

When I say home, I sometimes mean where my dad lives in the Midwest, and sometimes I mean where I live in California.

It’s kind of confusing to think of two places equally as the place where your heart is.

But Jade is here, my cats are here, my stuff is here. Jade says home is where your stuff is. Maybe because her Midwestern home isn’t as welcoming as mine is.

To be fair, my dad’s home isn’t really home any more either. I don’t have a bedroom there filled with stuff from when I was growing up. It is the spare bedroom, and it is mine when I am there, but every single thing that was ever mine has been eradicated from the house. Even down to the boxes deliberately left in his basement years ago. I kicked and screamed at the thought of taking that stuff out, because if I left it there, I’d still have some presence in that house, apart from the couple of family pictures on the wall. But on one of my visits back home, he made me go through my last two boxes and mailed me the things I wanted to keep.

It’s kind of weird to go to this place called home and to know that your father loves you but absolutely does not want to talk about your marriage.

I told my brother, via e-mail, about us getting married legally on June 17, and told him he could tell my dad and stepmom if he wanted. So when I was home, I asked him if he’d told them. Yeah, he said.

“Well, what did they say?”

“Not much. Just ‘We were just talking about that and wondering if they were going to do that.’ “

During my visit, my best friend told me on the phone that I needed to come out to my dad. I told her that he already knows, so it’s not coming out. We just haven’t spoken about it directly, except for accidentally once or twice.

I guess she thinks I should talk to him about it, and force him to start the process of acceptance.

Well, I didn’t ask her. She’s not a lesbian, she hasn’t had to deal with these feelings of rejection and discomfort, both of others and with herself.

And that’s how I feel.

Do want June 27, 2008

Oh my God.

MeShell Ndegeocello will be performing at San Francisco pride tomorrow.

Why didn’t anyone tell me???

OK, the deal: Lizzie and I are moving soon, so we have to save money. Further, Lizzie is out of town this week (sad, lonely week), and returns via plane tomorrow morning. So, we hadn’t planned on going to S.F. pride.

I don’t know how many of you kids have gone to S.F. pride. This is the only big pride celebration I’ve been to, so I can’t compare it to, say, Chicago or L.A. But we’ve gone the last two years and loved it. We’re such geeks — we mostly do a lot of walking around. And basking in the completely queer vibe. And I mean queer. Which is fabulous — S.F. is already pretty queer on a normal day. Pride weekend is a fucken holiday. Everyone wishes “Happy Pride!” The Castro is packed. I walked around in a wife beater one year and completely fit in. Even the straight people are queer. It’s fabulous.

So I’ve been spending my time trying not to think about the parade we’re missing, in my favorite city on Earth. In fact, I was sure it was last weekend. So anyway, I’ve been here on the Internets instead of doing work like I should, and I happened to stumble across the acts… Not only is it tomorrow, but it turns out Ndegeocello , Margaret Cho, and Cyndi Lauper are all appearing.

Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck. I want to go! MeShell takes the stage at 3:40. Lizzie’s plane arrives here at 10 a.m. It’s a three-hour drive. And you can’t just drive into Pride. You crazy? I’d have to park someplace and BART or MUNI it over.

I can’t do it. It’s crazy. At least to catch that performance. But now I’m all hepped up, thinking of maybe spending money I shouldn’t be spending and going to Pride anyway, if for nothing else, the festival (gay schwag!) and the parade Sunday. And not to mention getting some fabulous S.F. food. Maybe catching a sunset on the Bay…

Man! I want to go. Somebody needs to talk some sense into me. Stat.

Edit: You know, I just remembered. Northern California is on fire. Literally. It smells like a chimney here in the Central Valley — it’s hard to breathe, the air is blue, visibility is just three miles or so, and officials are telling everyone to stay indoors. It’s Dante-esque — and we aren’t even close to where thousands of acres are burning. Maybe we should just stay at home after all. Dammit.

Want a laugh? June 20, 2008

Jade went to the county clerk’s web site to see if our names had made it into their public records yet.

Yes.

Not only are we fully searchable for anyone who wishes to see that we are married, but get this:

I am listed as the groom.

Jade says she’s going to use that against me the next time she needs me to do something. Like open pickle jars, I suppose.

I am NOT the man.

I guess they haven’t fixed that part of the process; maybe never will. When we filled out the marriage license application on computer, I went first, so I guess I was Party A.

I just can’t wait until we start getting junk mail addressed to Mrs. Lizzie.

Beware of tiger June 20, 2008

Lizzie teases me about my need for privacy. Which probably sounds pretty funny coming from someone writing here on the Interwebs. But anyhow, says I only share things if asked for. In writing. Filled out in triplicate. And only then, when served with a FOIA form. And a subpoena.

I never thought I was quite *that* bad.

Until my business went out in an email — complete with a pic — Tuesday. To the 100 or so people we work with. And to their spouses. And to friends in other states.

Yeow! I’m supposed to be the one asking questions. This is freaking. Me. Out.

I hadn’t realized all the different layers of veils I wear around everyone. I know I try to control the flow of information. I’ll show an ankle to one person, an elbow to another. But until Tuesday, I’d never realized the extent of the secrecy. I mean, I can’t even break down who knows what. There are almost as many variables as people. And that doesn’t even count the further information that we’ll soon be leaving as I start law school.

We’ve got friends who know about the ceremony but not the official knot-tying, and vice-versa.

I’ve got one friend I’m pretty sure has stopped talking to me because she probably suspects I’m gay, but I don’t know for sure. Try piercing through all *those* layers of secrecy and mind-reading.

There’s my mother, who I’ve recently decided to start talking to again. Sort of. She doesn’t know. She barely knows I’m going back to school. In fact, she hasn’t even called me to confirm whether I still have a job, as some very bad news about my company made news this week. News I think she’s likely aware of. But I’m not sure. Because, well, we’re barely talking.

And then there’s my sister, whom I’m not speaking to at all. And haven’t in more than a year.

But on Tuesday, everything was blasted open, at least at work and all those places adjacent, where our outness was spotty at best. Whereas I usually slowly unpeel like an onion, my outer wrapping was blasted away. And thankfully, blessedly, if I can believe in blessings anymore, it was completely worth it.

People keep asking me, why didn’t you say anything? Most of them don’t realize this is the third time we’ve been married in a year. Some of them perhaps are making a political statement. Others perhaps are so used to those who are very public about their gayness, especially this week, that they don’t understand that, even if there is a good chance the reaction is good, not everyone is out there like that. And still others, I think, honestly don’t understand how second-nature a life of secrecy is — many times, has to be — for someone who isn’t straight.

I have said before, even on this blog, that I would like to live a more open life. That was, in fact, the purpose of coming out to my friends and family about two years ago. Perhaps that was a lie to myself, and what I really sought was just the opportunity to have more options about which parts of me I’ll show to which people.

Out, out, out June 18, 2008

OMG. We are SO out.

Out at work.

It’s a relief, in a way, but yesterday, we felt like bugs under a magnifying glass.

It started when one of our coworkers saw us on the way to the courthouse. And then two more. It was that first one who said something to his supervisor, and then to one of our supervisors.

We got a couple of furtive congratulations when we went to work and then our supervisor asked if it was OK if she shared the news.

I thought about it for a minute, answered without really consulting Jade, and figured that there were two ways to do this.

Let people talk about us behind our backs or just come out to everybody.

We chose the latter.

Immediately, we had several women flock to our desk and congratulate us and say they had NO idea we were getting married; otherwise, they would’ve been there.

I showed them the pictures and then I was asked if we would mind if a message was sent out to the entire larger department, complete with a picture.

Well, news was traveling faster and faster. (It ended up as far as Seattle.) Might as well be in it the whole way.

Jade didn’t like the picture I gave. She was mortified, because we are holding hands, facing each other, looking happy as we are about to kiss.

I think I’ve been forgiven, if only because a) we are so cute, after all and b) because she got over feeling like a bug under a magnifying glass. Or at least stopped minding so much.

Sorry Jade.

Typical responses:

You didn’t tell anybody? You didn’t invite anybody? Is there going to be a party? Are you going on a honeymoon? I didn’t even know you were a couple. I’m so happy for you both. Cute picture. I liked your dress. I liked your suit. How was the crowd? Did you have to wait long?

People were really sweet. If there was anybody that didn’t approve of our situation, we didn’t hear from them.

We didn’t expect this kind of response, to be honest.

I didn’t get any work done most of the time I was at work.

People kept creeping over to congratulate us. We kept explaining that we just wanted to do it quietly, avoid the fuss. We explained we’d already bought a house together, had been domestic partners. Signing mortgage papers is honestly a lot more scary than signing your name to a marriage license, I said. We also wanted to be a part of history. And we were. About 65 couples got marriage licenses in our county yesterday. I’m not sure how many of them got married that day. I heard 30, but there might’ve been more.

No hitches in getting hitched June 17, 2008

We decided to show up to the county clerk’s office a couple hours after the office had opened, in hopes that the crowd and the media circus would have died down a bit.

We were pleasantly surprised when we just walked right in, filled out an application and sat for a handful of minutes before we were called to affirm our paperwork and pay our money. A couple minutes later and we were in the small wedding chapel with an arch of fake flowers.

Simple as that. We ran into some people we know from work. One of them didn’t know what to make of it. Another person kept asking stupid questions, like are you here to get married?

I was busy filling out our marriage license application so I was pretty flip.

“What does it look like we’re doing?”

We brought our friend Sarah as a witness. And then we ran into yet another person from work, who was very happy for us, and didn’t even know we were a couple. We told her several times, we’re not really out at work so … But she was invited to watch, since she was already there.

Overall, it was fast, painless and pleasant. Which was a happy surprise.

We probably did miss out on the best of the camraderie of a bunch of gay folk showing up in solidarity, getting married or just to support each other. But there were no anti-gay protesters, only pro-marriage people shouting on the street corner with Marriage Equality signs. Hell yeah!

There’s going to be a big group reception at a local restaurant and bar tonight, but we have to work. The party still might be going on when we get off work, but it’ll probably be dying down, just like all the wedding ceremony furor.

It was a good way to do it.

Everyone in the clerk’s office was very nice. We didn’t get too many stares. And the woman who married us smiled. Another person complimented my dress.

Oh, yeah, that’s another thing. We weren’t sure what we were going to wear. I thought about just dressing up but then I realized I had a perfectly good wedding dress, and Jade wore her suit again too. Might as well get another use out of each of our outfits. But you can absolutely bet that I didn’t wear my damned uncomfortable sparkly high-heeled shoes. Nope. Birkenstocks. Doing it Cali style, yo.

We wanted this to be taken seriously, to show that in showing up to get married today, this historic day, that we had given it a lot of thought. And we have. Some people dressed up. Some did not. But it was important to do this today.

In a few days, we can get our certified copy of the completed marriage license (instead of the pretty fake copy we got today.) We plan to do that as soon as possible, because once we have that in our hands, it can’t be taken away. Not even by some scary haters who may vote otherwise. Whether what we did today remains legal is something that will be dealt with later.

But today, we are married in every sense of the word.

Partner. Wife.

We join hands

We grin as we hold hands, about to kiss

We exchange rings

Outside, after the deed is done

Quick post June 17, 2008

We did it.

More later.

(And note: The world hasn’t ended yet. Woo hoo.)

Other people paid our dues June 16, 2008

In a way, I feel like we’ve cheated in this whole marriage thing.

Jade and I are about to participate in history, in getting our relationship recognized legally. Not just as domestic partners (which we did last year) but as the real thing. Party A and B. Wife and Wife.

Yet we haven’t participated in the same struggles and suffering other couples have gone through.

Recently, on Pride weekend, we sat with a group of older lesbians at a restaurant, waiting for the crowd to die down after the parade. They took a survey, going around the table, of who had been together how long. Our answer: almost four years. Everyone else had been together more than a decade, and probably had identified as lesbians for decades.

I’ve seen pictures of San Francisco’s poster same-sex couple: Del Martin and Phyllis Lyon. They’re in their 80s; they’ve been together for 55 years.

Jade and I are babies.

And my identity as a lesbian has been growing process.

When Jade and I started having a physical relationship, I didn’t know what to call myself nor who to tell.

We freaked ourselves out. We had a secret from the entire world for months. And people only got let in on the secret gradually.

After it was killing us not to tell. After we thought we could handle the reaction from others.

It took a long while. A very long while.

I’m still not comfortable talking about it. We’re still not entirely out at work. Huge gobs of acquaintances and relatives don’t know, probably will never know.

I did secretly identify as a bisexual for many years, although that was something I kept even more secret. It was something I kept trying to talk myself out of. I’m not attracted to this woman. I do not have a crush on this woman. But I got no further with men than I did with women. After my only adult relationship with a man ended about 11 years ago, I never really dated. Nor seemed to attract anyone, although I had crushes on guys all the time. And tried to quell the crushes I had on women as impractical. Plus my gaydar was horrible …

More photos June 11, 2008

At last, I’m ready to post a few more pictures of our wedding. This time from our photographer friend. I also have been messing around for a least a month, making a photo slideshow with music to put on DVD. However, because of privacy concerns, Jade doesn’t want me to put the video up on YouTube. Which is the only way that I currently have the tools to put it on our blog. There are ways I can make it more private, but it boils down to never put anything up on the Internet that you don’t want somehow coming back to haunt you later.

It’s just as well. It’s 7 minutes of looking at someone else’s pictures. Right now, in the background, I’m making about 10 copies to send to our friends. Who are getting them whether they want them or not. My best friend informs me she doesn’t want a copy because she doesn’t have 7 minutes to spare because of her toddler.

So if you want to waste your time with just a handful of the pictures … (Click on them for full captions)

Peeking outside

Our feet

We walk to the gazebo along our aisle of flowers

We're getting ready to walk

Imagine

The rings

A cute moment

The wedding party, such as it is

Don't know what's so funny

Our rings

The kiss