This Is Dedicated to the One I Love

Happy Valentine's Day!

I've reflected for some time about just what would be an appropriate post for this particular blog on this particular day.  Should I rail against the unjust juxtaposition of deep love and in a time of deep discrimination?  Should I take on the Republican presidential hopefuls who spar with each other but remain united in scapegoating Danielle and me?  Maybe I should, and maybe I will...one day.

Today, I want only to be thankful.

In high school and college, I spent many years dreading Valentine's Day.  Tongue firmly in cheek, I referred to it as "Singles Awareness Day" and marked the holiday with increased chocolate consumption and a prayer in my heart that I would one day have a Beloved to share the day with.  That day finally came and with it, blessings beyond my most audacious hopes and creative imaginings.  Danielle and I have been together for almost 8 years, but I never stop marveling at what a gift she is in my life.  She is my joy and my strength, and I need her more than ever these days.

This past year has been enormously challenging for Danielle and me.  I lost my job last spring due to budget cuts.  This was right around the time we first started trying to get pregnant.  In the middle of our five months of fertility treatments, my grandfather died. We continued to fix up our first home.  I started a new job in August, and it has absolutely drained me of time and energy.   Nevertheless, we managed to plan, finance, and actually show up for our wedding in September. (More posts about that to come.) People often throw around phrases like, "I couldn't have done it without you," and, "You're a lifesaver," but I am here to attest that I would not have survived from last February 14th until now without Danielle's love and patience.  At least not without straightjackets involved.

These days, it is not uncommon for me to be at work from 6:50 a.m. to 5:30 p.m. and to bring more paperwork home to do while watching "West Wing" with Danielle.  (Yay, Netflix!)  Danielle and I used to split up a lot of the household chores and responsibilities, but now I come home each night to find that she has already prepared a delicious dinner and started a load of laundry.  She runs most of the errands and does the dishes and daily maintenance needed to keep our family unit running.  Moreover, she has not complained about it but instead has made these sacrifices with patience and a loving heart.

I don't make it easy for her.  I have occasional depression and anxiety about work, which causes me to have difficulty sleeping and leaves me feeling terribly down on Sunday nights.  (I hold onto my precious weekends with such a grip I must have traces of Saturday embedded in my fingernails.)  When I wake up in the middle of the night in tears, Danielle holds me, soothes me, rubs my shoulders, and speaks words of reassurance.  On nights when I toss and turn as fitfully as the struggles in my mind, she reminds me to breathe and recites back to me all the good she sees in me.  She won't let up on showing me the light in myself until I can begin to see it on my own.

She could tell me to suck it up and just get over it, but she never does.

This is grace, pure and simple.

So, you can see how buying her a bouquet of roses for Valentine's Day won't quite cut it.  There's nothing I can give, do, or say, no gesture grand enough to thank her for choosing me.  For sticking by me when I'm a prickly mess.  For loving me "as is".

Hopefully, she'll think a blog shout-out is romantic. (Don't worry, folks.  I've got more surprises up my sleeve.  I'm not THAT cheap!)

Happy Valentine's Day to my road trip companion, best friend, source of my belly laughs, hot mama, mind reader, caretaker, generous heart, genius of cooking a PERFECT fried egg, harmonizing voice, welcome home hug, partner, and wife.  I love you more deeply every day and know we'll make it through whatever else life throws at us because we are us.  And we work.  We fit.  We are SO good together.  I remain deeply in love with you and am filled with optimism about the adventures we'll have between now and next Valentine's Day.

Love,
Elaine

p.s. Take note, Republicans: If Danielle's example is any indication, gay marriage isn't going to destroy traditional marriage.  However, it may damn well raise the bar.

That Thing In September

Kudos to us.  We are only a few posts into our blog, and we are already confusing our readers.  We had to go and give our blog an obscure title.  See, our followers right now are a small group of friends, most of whom know we are trying to get pregnant. A number of people have asked if we are already pregnant and if our due date is in September.  That's a great but ultimately incorrect guess.

"That thing in September" is, in actuality, a quote from one of our mothers.  The story behind it begins in 2007, when we got engaged.  Both sets of our parents knew about our relationship, but we were still nervous to share the news of our engagement with them.  When we did, we were told, "We'll talk about it after Christmas."  Several Christmases went by, and, not surprisingly, wedding discussions never occurred.  We dragged our heels in planning a ceremony because we did not know if our parents would be emotionally ready to attend, to be truly present participants.  In addition, our grandparents are very conservative, so we were unsure of whether or not to invite them to our wedding.  It was a lot to navigate, and we wanted our big day to be a happy one, not a time for walking on eggshells.

Fast forward to 2011.  After a 3 1/2- year long engagement, we finally decided that we needed to face our fears of event planning and all of the requisite coordinating it involves.  Besides, we were trying to start a family, and it seemed like a good time in our life and relationship to affirm our commitment to one another and publicly declare that we were in it for the long haul.  Good reasons and all, it was still difficult going to our parents to say: "We have picked wedding date and venue.  We hope you'll come."  We were so nervous about this, in fact, that we ended up bringing up the subject of the wedding while eating out at a crowded restaurant.  This was total strategy on our part.  After all, very few people will make a big, emotional scene in a restaurant.  We were betting that our parents would not be outliers.

Our strategy worked, and our parents seemed receptive to the idea of a ceremony.  Still, they didn't say much about it, so it was hard to read them.  We hoped they were happy about it.  We hoped they would come.

A few weeks later, one of our mothers called us to ask, "Hey, what's the date again for that thing in September?"  That's when we knew our parents were in and on board.

And, that's when our wedding officially got its name.

"That thing in September" was a beautiful and joyous day of love and affirmation between the two of us and our astoundingly supportive family and community.

"That thing in September" was the culmination of years of growth and discovery as individuals and as a couple.

"That thing in September" was a foundation to build the rest of our lives upon.

"That thing in September" changed and is changing our lives.

We invite you along for the journey.

Whatchamacallits

While there are certainly civil rights issues surrounding the subject of gay marriage, these inequalities also present some pretty awkward, less-publicized logistical issues.  What name, for example, do we give to our significant others?   Are we partners?  (Too business-like.)  Husbands/Wives?  (Most accurate, but not legally so.)  Lovers?  (This sounds pornographic and gives me the skeeves.)  Boyfriends/girlfriends? (Too high school.)   My friend John put it this way: “If I say that Jake is my partner, it sounds like we have started a law firm together.  Still, I don’t want to call him my boyfriend.  That just sounds like we should cuddle and watch Dawson’s Creek together.”
 

The water is muddied further once parents, siblings, and other family members get involved.  Danielle’s parents can’t technically be my in-laws because by law we are of no relation to one another.  Therefore, her nieces and nephew are not technically my nieces and nephew.  Still, we send them Christmas presents and see them about once a year, so I consider them to be my kin.  My cousin’s daughters, before they were informed of Danielle’s and my relationship, also struggled to figure out how the family was connected.  They showed a friend a picture of us with them at the beach, pointed to my picture and said, “That’s our cousin.”  They moved their fingers over to Danielle’s picture, paused and said, “That’s our….sort of cousin?”

All the confusion is certainly understandable.  How can you give an appropriate title to a relationship that is not formally recognized, or at least not consistently so?  Homosexuality has long been referred to as “the Love that dare not speak its name,” but in a time of evolving attitudes, a myriad of state laws regarding gay rights, and expansive vocabulary of terms for gay couples, it may be more accurate to say that we are wrapped up in a “Love that is searching for its name”.

I have been called Danielle’s girlfriend, roommate, wife, and partner and once, from a well-intentioned but old-fashioned friend, her companion.  That’s right.  Companion.  As if Danielle is convalescing by the sea and I have been hired to read to her and fix her meals.   As if she is the Aunt March to my Jo.  

Of all the titles I have been given, my hands-down most hated name is when I am called Danielle’s friend.  To say that Danielle and I are friends is certainly not untrue.  In fact, she is my very best friend, the finisher of my sentences and reader of my otherwise illegible mind.  We were friends for a good three years before we became a couple, and our friendship continues to anchor and nourish our relationship as a couple.  

Still, the term “friend” feels like a diminishment of the depth and scope of our connection.  You would never hear a married couple introduce themselves in this way:

“Hi, I’m Mrs. Jane Doe, and this is my friend Mr. John Doe.”

It sounds ridiculous.  It just isn’t done.

Likewise, my parents wouldn’t introduce my brother and his wife as their son and his friend.  No, she is their daughter-in-law.  The terms are familiar, the relationships clear and defined.  

So where does that leave Danielle and me?  Are we partners?  Wives?  Girlfriends?  Some other term we use to make others more comfortable?   By grasping for terms, settling for lesser titles, and struggling to demarcate connections and relationships we are left feeling frustrated and second-class while confusing the crap out of those we meet.  I can see the wheels turning in their heads as they try to figure us out.  (“They said they were just friends, but they sure are touchy-feely.  Hmmm.  Maybe they’re just REALLY good friends.)

Please, America.  Put your lexicon first for once.  Stop the confusion, and make gay marriage legal nationwide.  Cut out the gray areas and just let married be married.  If you don’t you’ll have a lot of your citizenry looking like dumbasses as they look at us, smile, and say, “Those two sure are bosom buddies…..”

The REAL Gay Agenda

Perhaps you’ve heard the term “gay agenda” thrown around by members of the far right to express the need to block the progress of civil rights for the GLBT community.  Some speak of the gay agenda as if it were some thick document of mores and how-tos for overturning heterosexual marriage and casting our country back into the good ol’ days of Sodom and Gomorrah.  However, in our 8 years of being out lesbians, we have never received any propaganda or paperwork informing us of any such agenda.  Perhaps our copy got lost in the mail or we never got listed in the Registery of Gay People, but we're beginning to suspect that there is no such thing as the gay agenda.

To set the record straight, we’d like to propose a more realistic version of the gay agenda.

GAY AGENDA: Weekday Version

6:00  Wake up and hit snooze.

6:05  Grumble and hit snooze again.  If it is Monday, insert a curse word into the routine.

6:10  Get up and get dressed.  Bump into furniture because your eyes are not yet fully open.

6:15  Start the cars so they can defrost, and let the dog out.  Pray that she will choose to do her business outdoors instead of leaving a surprise indoors.

6:30-7:00 Begin the blur of turn signals, coffee, and NPR’s Morning Edition some would call the morning commute.  Congratulate yourself on being able to operate a vehicle before sunrise.  However, do not congratulate yourself TOO much because you have spilled coffee down the front of your sweater.

7:00-4:30  Work.  Feel a little part of your soul die.

4:30-5:00  Drive home.  Realize that the effects of coffee have worn off a long time ago.

5:00-5:30  Convene the nightly Meeting of the Indecisive Minds.   Play out a script that goes something like this:

Partner 1: What do you want to have for dinner?

Partner 2: I don’t know.  I don’t really have a taste for anything in particular.

Partner 1:  Guess we could use the stuff that’s going to go bad soon.

Partner 2: Ugh.  That doesn’t really sound good tonight. (pauses)  Hey, want to go out to eat?

Partner 1: I am tired of always going to the same restaurants.  Nothing sounds good to me.

Partner 2: Well, we do live in a small town.  We just don’t have as many options.

Partner 1: Tell me about it.  (Thinks for a moment.)  Do you want to heat up the pizza in the freezer?

Partner 2:  I would rather have vegetables.

This could go on for quite some time.

5:30-6:00  Decide on fixing breakfast for dinner.

6:00-8:00  Clean up, do laundry, and watch tv.

8:00  Decide to watch just one more episode of West Wing.  (Thank you, Netflix!)

8:45  Watch another West Wing.

9:30  What the heck?  If we watch the last West Wing on the disk, we can put it back in the mail to Netflix and get our next disc sooner.  We are getting more value from our rental plan this way.

10:15  Shower and put on pj’s.

10:30 Read in bed until your eyes get heavy.  Make a promise to each other that you’ll go to bed earlier tomorrow night.

Rinse and repeat.

Pleased to Make Your Acquaintance

Perhaps we shouldn't admit this, but we're a wee bit skeptical of blogs.  Sure, there are some great ones out there full of how-to's on just about any topic imaginable.  There are also blogs that are downright hilarious.  We laugh so hard reading Cake Wrecks that it must count as our ab workout for the week. 
That said, it feels a little narcissistic to say, "We are starting a blog," as if the world has just been aching to hear about the minutae of our lives.  Who are WE, we ask ourselves, to start a blog?
Individually, we are just two ordinary women, Danielle and Elaine, living out what are basically two ordinary lives.  We work full time, go to church, pay our bills, cook, clean, watch tv.  Nothing particularly blog-worthy there.  What sets us apart is that we are a lesbian couple caught up in the most wonderful love story at a time when the laws of our state and country tell us that we are second-class citizens, separate and somehow "less than".  We feel like a run-of-the-mill, regular old married couple and know we have much more in common with heterosexual couples than the few differences used to divide us.  However, it was only a week or two ago when presidential hopeful Rick Santorum stated that children growing up with same-sex parents would be better off being raised by convicts.  Sorry to object, Senator, but we are just not that subversive.  Thanks for giving us a bad-ass reputation, but our anti-establishment activities tend to limit themselves to accruing small library fines or fixing breakfast for dinner.  Scandals?  You won't find them in our home.  We're too busy reading or knitting to get into trouble.
Because of the tenuous political situation regarding equal rights for ALL, we feel that this is as good a time as any to begin telling our story.  WE know that we're no different from anyone else, but nothing will change for us and the family we want to start unless OTHERS realize and embrace the fact that we are not a threat to the country or to anyone's marriage, that we are not in the least bit scary or different.
So here it begins....our story in bits and pieces.  The laugh-out-loud parts.  The story of how we met and fell in love.  The day of our wedding ceremony.  Our struggles.  Our joys.  Our very cute dog.  (We couldn't leave her out.)
We hope you'll join us on our journey and help us fight the good fight.

Danielle and Elaine