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Tuesday, November 15, 2005

Eyeing the Altar

The below was written as a “personal story” for an upcoming campaign with Outfront Minnesota. Thought I’d share it with you all, as well.

In September 2005, I watched as my sister was married to the man she loves at the altar of a small church on Lake Michigan’s eastern shore. I sat alongside the rest of my family in the front pew on the left hand side of the aisle, while behind us breathed dozens of distant relatives and longtime friends, all looking intently at my sister and her soon-to-be husband as they fumbled with words and he fought back tears and she put the ring on the wrong finger.

The moment was historically appropriate: She at the altar and me in my tuxedo in the wooden pew. Even from the beginning, my sister has been a step or two ahead. After 7 months in our mother’s womb, she decided it was time to go and made her exit. I followed a quick five minutes later. While my gums were still soft and fleshy, she gnawed on plastic rings and cut her first teeth. When I was still forming single words, she translated my babble into whole sentences. Later on, when it came time to graduate from high school, she made a speech as valedictorian while I placed third.

In all ways, though, we both are fortunate in a classic Mid-Western way. We grew up in a small town with a loving family. Went on to pursue different programs at different universities. Found our niche and established promising careers, she in social work and me in marketing. And now, 24 years after she preceded me into this world, she’s married to a wonderful and caring husband.

And I’m not.

This is the case for several reasons, not the least of which being that I haven’t found the right person I want to spend the rest of my life with.

But also because, in the eyes of the law, any marriage I enter with a man I love isn’t equal. It doesn’t exist. Even if our love and commitment is equal and even if I stand in front of my loved ones and say the exact same words that my sister and her husband said at their wedding, it doesn’t count. Even if I signed a paper signifying my lifelong commitment to my husband, it would have no bearing in most areas of the United States. If he were sick in the hospital, there’s no guarantee I could visit. If we adopted kids, there is no true joint custody. If he passed away, I would have no say on where his inheritance went.

My family has promised that, when the day comes that I find the person I want to spend my life with, they will support my relationship just as they have for my sister and someday will for my younger brother. As my mom wrote to me after I returned to Minneapolis from the wedding, “When it’s your turn we’ll have a big celebration, because sharing, caring, and commitment is what I want for you and will definitely warrant celebration when you find it.”

In a thank you card mailed to me a couple weeks after her honeymoon, my sister wrote, “You have no idea how much it meant for us to have you at our wedding… We hope that you are able to find as much happiness as you have helped us to find.”

My family wants for me what I think every parent wants for their son, every sister wants for their brother and every person wants for themselves. They want me to be able to fully experience those things that are supported, confirmed and secured by marriage: Sharing, caring, commitment and happiness.

And I, more than anyone, want that as well.

Posted by Aaron on November 15, 2005 10:37 PM