I don’t know why I bother trying to write honestly and thoughtfully about the reasons underlying my deepened committment to marriage equality when I could just save myself the work, switch sides, vomit out thoughtless illogic as part of a callous fundraising effort, and be a successful statewide political figure.
Hi, my name is Kristen, and I “oppose traditional marriage.” So much so that I, a possessor of girl parts, got “traditional-married” to a possessor of boy parts and the two of us have stayed “traditional-married” for almost four years and counting. I obviously hate “traditional marriage” so everloving much I want to ruin it for everyone, not just myself. I’m a saboteuse, sneakily dismantling “traditional marriage” from within, and I will stop at nothing to acheive my sworn goal of “undermining traditional values.”
Is that really what Mary Franson thinks is happening here? That I am just a self-hating married? That every other straight married couple I know giving money and making phone calls and knocking on doors and having tough conversations with their family members and neighbors to defeat this spiteful constitutional amendment she’s been hocking like a used car are all self-hating marrieds? Good Lord.
I mean, yes, I oppose traditional marriage, if by traditional you mean a system in which I am legally and culturally subsumed from the body of my father to the body of my husband. But you know, the right to, say, vote her own ballot seems to be working out quite nicely for State Representative Mary Franson, so I don’t think we are actually fighting over the viability or desirability of “traditional marriage.” I think we’re fighting over whether or not to treat people, however similar or dissimilar they might be from us, with kindness.
At the end of the day, I won’t be ashamed to admit what choice I made. And more importantly, my kid won’t be ashamed of the choice I made.