It took my dad until he was in his mid 50s to decide he didn’t want
to be married.
Given what he was up against, it’s understandable that it took him
so long to arrive at this epiphany. He was born in 1950 into a loving
but fairly traditional Christian household—his father was a B-52
bomber pilot; his mother was an Avon lady. When Dad went away to
college and started shacking up premaritally, his parents cut him off
financially.
So, yeah, he was under some serious pressure to get married.
Dad did wind up getting married—three times—and he got
divorced three times, too. He hardly bothered to take a breath between
the end of one marriage and the beginning of the next. Indeed, there
was, at least once, some unfortunate overlap.
My mom and dad were married until I was 4 years old, when they got
divorced because Dad had been having an affair with my mom’s then best
friend, who he went on to marry. When his second marriage dissolved,
Dad spent a little while alone, but then quickly married again. That
marriage ended when it became clear to my dad that he had a bisexual
side that he wasn’t able to explore within the confines of the
marriage. It took him some 30 years to arrive at that realization.
Dad is seeing someone now—they remain happily unmarried and
are negotiating the sometimes-choppy waters of an open
relationship.
Hindsight being what it is, it seems obvious that not only was Dad
not really built to be with just one person his whole life, he wasn’t
even built to be with one person, or perhaps even one gender, at a
time.
But when he was growing up, the whole world was practically
screaming at him to get married. And here’s where all y’all gays should
be happy. Here’s where y’all have a leg up on my dad. It seems obvious
that widespread acceptance of gay marriage is an
inevitability—just wait for another generation of scared old
bigots to pass away. But with half the world screaming at you homos NOT
to get married, you pesky abominations, you—you might be tempted
to run off and get married just to show the shouters how wrong they
are.
That might be a mistake.
Yes, of course, everyone should be able to get married.
Clearly. But is that really your style? A lot of people are serial
monogamists, jumping from one exclusive relationship to the next
without a pause for breath in between, but few people want to admit it.
So they don’t. And instead of recognizing their own… well, I don’t
want to use the world “inability” here. So let’s say that when people
refuse to admit to their own lack of desire to be in a lifelong,
committed relationship, they can fall into the trap of making a lot of
commitments that inevitably fall apart.
For better or worse, the gay community doesn’t have a centuries-old
tradition of marriage. When—again, inevitably—the legal
definition of marriage expands to include you, you will be in the
unique position of having the right but not the
traditions of marriage. You will have the option of marrying,
but not the parental, religious, and social expectations—well,
maybe a touch of them, but at nowhere near the same intensity
levels.
Which means you can make a freer choice. And many of you will, or
should, choose not to marry.
Sure, there are tax benefits, as well as that sexy stuff like
hospital visits and the disposal of earthy remains. But beware of the
dusty romantic notion that all you will need over your long life is one
person to love. How many straight people even believe that? And among
the straight people who believe it, how many actually do it
successfully?
So while you contemplate that flight to San Francisco this summer,
remember what marriage really is: an agreement not to break up until
one of you decides to renege. Only with a little paperwork going
in—and a lot getting out.
It is, however, a good excuse for a party. 