You may not be familiar with the reference I’ve used for my title, but it’s a song in a 70’s-era Stephen Sondheim production called “Company.” The song is an hilarious depiction of a soon-to-be bride who is frantically making up excuses for why she’s NOT getting married–it’s wedding day jitters on steroids. Google it or, better yet, search it out on YouTube. Many famous Broadway actresses have recreated versions of the song.

All humor aside, the topic that has finally broken through to cure my writers’ block is not one of hilarity. It’s one of great joy. Today, July 4, 2008, Justin Ervin, my boyfriend of nearly two and a half years, joined hands with mine as we exchanged expressions of our love and commitment to one another. We exchanged rings and promised to love and honor each other as we journey together in this life, for the rest of our lives. Our commitment to this promise bears witness to each other and to those around us that our love is real, legitimate, and deserving of the title of “marriage.” It was a beautiful, joyous, moment, and one that I will never forget.

Justin is an amazing man. He’s loving and sensitive. His heart is compassionate for those who are less fortunate. He has a special gift for conversation, and makes people feel at ease when he’s around. He has inspired others to comment that knowing him makes them want to be better people. He’s SO intelligent! His command of vocabulary and the spoken language are beyond noteworthy, even to the point that it’s difficult for him to resist an occasional pun at the most unexpected moments (over which I often teasingly groan and roll my eyes, even though–lame as they may be–they really just endear him that much more to me). He has the most beautiful face which animates playfully when he’s in conversation, and his steely-blue eyes… oi, don’t get me started!

And yet, in the eyes of the State of North Carolina (and thus by decree of DOMA, also in the eyes of the Federal Government, to whom I pay taxes and by whose laws I abide), I didn’t get married today. I’m not exceedingly political, but I do feel a bit saddened that I’m not afforded the rights and privileges of heterosexuals who feel the same way about their life partners as I feel about mine.

In addition, I am saddened that my own family, whom I love deeply, will most likely not rejoice with Justin and me. They do not believe that it’s by God’s design that I am a homosexual, nor that I am afforded the gift of a homosexual partner with whom to share my life.* My sister, Vanessa, is the only immediate family member with whom I’ve shared today’s news. I know that she has difficulty with the religious implications, but she has made a pointed decision to support me and love me despite them, and I knew that she would want to know.

I’m really not quite sure how my parents or my brother are going to react–that’s my fault. Seven years ago, I pretty much closed the door on any real discussion about the matter, as a way of preventing a full-scale assault from my brother, Jonathan, whose fundamentalist views and opinions often were expressed as emotional hostility, anger, and hurtful rhetoric.

Author’s Note: There once was a blog referenced here that Jonathan wrote just before Thanksgiving of 2004 (three years after my separation/divorce/coming-out) when I asked if I could bring my first real boyfriend (whose name is CJ, not Justin) home. The hostility in that entry was palpable, and all the reasons that I wanted to invite my friend, who never really experienced the closeness of family that I have enjoyed, disintegrated. CJ never did see the loving family that I had told him so much about.) Jonathan has since removed that entry, either because readers of my blog gave him flack over it, or because he became convicted of the rage he used to write it, or perhaps because his opinion has mellowed since then. I have to speculate, because he’s never told me.

I don’t mean to fault Jonathan or my parents. I know very intimately the struggle that they have, because I fought it for years–only I fought it against myself. Still, though I never doubted my parents’ love for me, my sister was the first of my immediate family to place her love for me over the struggle. She never treated me or CJ as though she was uncomfortable around either of us, and for that I am eternally grateful, and my heart swells with emotion when I consider how much I love her. In the years since then, my parents have become much more comfortable with my “gayness,” and I credit Justin’s amazing personality for much of that. I’m very happy that Justin is welcome at family gatherings without my having to ask, and that everyone treats him with kindness and respect. Jonathan seems to have mellowed a bit as well, if not in his opinions, at least in his outward behavior toward Justin and me–both as individuals and as a couple. Jonathan has reached out more to show kindness to me, and we are in the very early stages of having the relationship that brothers ought to have. (Check out this recent blog in which he presents me in a much more positive light.)

But accepting a boyfriend is, I imagine, a very different thing from accepting and supporting a gay marriage. I really don’t know what my parents and Jonathan will say or do when Justin and I arrive home on Sunday with wedding bands on our fingers. As I said before, I closed the door, so it’s my own fault that I have some anxiety about their reactions. But I’m ready to open the door again, and I hope that Mom, Dad and I will be able to have some productive dialogue about the matter.

~ I am my lover’s, and my lover is mine… Song of Solomon 6:3a

* Post Script: Mom, Dad and I had a very nice discussion on Sunday night. I was encouraged by how positively Dad spoke of Justin, and how affirming he was of Justin for me as a partner. I was also very encouraged to discover that Dad has not drawn any lines in the sand with regard to his belief. “I’m still learning,” he said. He remains open and actively listens for God’s direction. Mom and Dad were also able to share some of their feelings and concerns with regard to my journey over the past 7 years, and I’m very glad that we were able to get those things off our chests.

Learn more about Justin’s and my relationship here