Don’t Ban Gay Marriage – Ban Straight Divorce

I am a lesbian. Correction, I am an out and proud lesbian, a card carrying member, in fact. As such, my opinion on the subject of gay marriage most certainly will be met with skepticism for its biasness. But as my cyberspace alter ego Ms. Tralwind says about her glowing reviews of her favorite band Heart, “Just because I’m biased don’t mean it ain’t true.”

You straight folks took a little time out of your day on Election Day to impose your will on the big bad gay people by allowing a ban on gay marriage. I think it’s only right that you allow me a few moments of your time to impose the will of my foot up your… wait. Where’s my manual? Sense of humor…I know it’s there somewhere.

Do straight people have a manual? Lesbians do. There are important rules contained within. A sense of humor is a must. Really, it’s in the manual. It’s right there between the “must not carry a purse” and the “occasional flannel shirt required” clauses. Still don’t see it? Do you see that line in bold, the one that reads “wallet and chain optional” just below the handy phone information for U-Haul? Yes, right there, “must have and maintain a sense of humor.”

There are many reasons for this. First and foremost it allows us to respond to the stupidity with which we are often met without becoming your worst PMS nightmare personified. The above mentioned stereotypical facets of lesbianism, or as I like to say, stereotypical facets of the Lesbanese culture, are blunt hits to my funny bone. Sure, those lesbians exist. That’s what makes a stereotype a stereotype isn’t it? Like a cliché is a cliché for a reason. There’s a truth there. Widely spread truths also create stereotypes. Those stereotypes have provided many comedians easy pickings over the years. I personally think having a sense of humor should be in the straight manual as well.

You straight people really are funny. The concept of allowing me to marry the woman I love having any bearing on your straight marriage what so ever is just the funniest damn thing you straight people have ever thought, said or done.

What are you silly, small minded people so afraid of? It’s not like if you allow us to get married we’re going to suddenly start breeding like rabbits. If you want to protect the sanctity of marriage then ban divorce. It’s that simple. That’s what’s demeaning and devaluing the ideals and the sanctity of marriage. We deserve the right to screw up our lives just as much as the next person.

It would have been nice if you had tried to find out a little bit about me before you made an important decision that really has no affect on you in any way but an abstract way. And while we’re at it, it would be nice if for once, one of you bible thumping conservatives could explain to me how allowing me to get married is going to ruin your marriage? What business is it of yours? Have you met any gay couples? Seriously, have you socialized with gay couples, or gay people for that matter? We are people you work with. We are people in your churches, banks, and stores. We are your sons and daughters. We may even be your fathers and mothers. Damn it people, we cut your hair! Trust me, you don’t want to piss off a drag queen and then give her a pair of scissors and allow her free rein on your locks. I would find another stylist until you vote to allow gay marriage. Your scalp will thank you.

Surely, you must know one of us. Why do you want us to have fewer rights than you?

Maybe that’s it. Maybe you don’t know any of us. I’m only one person, but like we told everyone on Election Day, one person can make a difference. Look how that turned out. Maybe if you get to see things from my perspective it might open that narrow little mind of yours. Maybe it’s my fault for putting the bourdon of proof on you. Maybe I should step up on behalf of all homosexuals and attempt to point out the absurdity of your views. Maybe by the end of it all you will change your mind and we can try this again on the next go round.

You might wonder why I am an “out” lesbian. Why have I decided to invite you into my bedroom? As a lesbian, it would be my responsibility to stop you in your tracks and most humbly correct you. It has nothing to do with the bedroom.

Ok, it has something to do with the bedroom. To be a lesbian one must, in fact, be a woman and she must like having sex with other women, and not necessarily at the same time. News flash: We can be monogamous. And for you straight guys who stumbled on this because you were looking for porn, your stereotypical male fantasy of two women together is all wrong. Who are these women, with their purchased triple D boobs, cheesy thongs and stiletto heels? They are porn stars. Real lesbians don’t look or dress like that. Where the hell would we keep our wallets?

Yes, sex has something to do with it. But what about the asexual lesbians; How do you explain them? I know you are really confused now. “Asexual lesbians, how can that be?” Oh, they are out there – you’ll find them with the lipstick lesbians and both are about as elusive as Bigfoot and Ol’ Nessie.

My point is that physical and sexual attraction is not the only thing there is. There is an emotional connection to women that we cannot achieve with men. I can be great pals with guys in a – greet him with a punch in the arm and you don’t care that he adjusted his package in front of you, and you might bond over a good belch and looking at a great pair of boobs walking by – kind of way. But intimacy requires emotion for most women. And I have yet to meet a fellow lesbian who can actually connect emotionally and intimately with a man.

And for the record, it’s not a choice, it’s not a preference, it’s not a lifestyle; It was how I was born. But you can still pray for a cure. Yes, I said a cure, like it’s a disease.  If we are looking for genetic proof to back what gays and lesbians have been saying all along, that we were born this way, how much of a stretch will it be for these idiots to try and find some way to genetically remove us from existence, eradicate us like polio? Maybe they’ll come up with a vaccine. And maybe they can make us all cookie cutter versions of what they think everyone should be. We live in dangerous times my friends.

While being gay is not totally about sex, it is also true that what happens in my bedroom is none of your business. So why, then am I out, you might ask?

Quite simply, I got tired of lying about who I was. I got tired of inserting he’s for she’s because I sucked at it. I’m an ok writer, but a horrible speaker. My mouth can’t keep up with my thoughts. Before I know it, I’m stumbling over a recap of the weekend, spinning this pseudo-lie about this manufactured life that doesn’t exist. Sure we went to the movies, my girlfriend Mary and I. But that’s not what I tell them, these co-workers I spend 40 hours a week with. I say “We went to the movies.”

I’m not that good a liar and I have no poker face. Surely they would eventually notice I never actually say this phantom boyfriend’s name? Wouldn’t they? And if they did? I can’t make up a name!

It was Marc. Yes, my fake boyfriend had a fake name. It seemed fitting to pick a male name that had the same three starting letters as Mary’s since they conveniently shared the same last name. Lying is an art I have not mastered. Mark with a C, I thought it was unusual enough to sound real.

Living in the closet presents entirely too much work for someone who has a genetic predisposition to laziness. The unused spare bedroom for your “roommate” just in case company comes. Using code words on the phone because the person who answered knows it’s a woman on the other end of the phone and if you get all ga ga over the phone, you’re afraid she’ll figure out what unspeakable act you and your girl were doing just an hour earlier. After spinning so many lies, keeping up with them becomes almost comical. I’d always start sweating like I’d just done the five finger discount in Wal-Mart just as a security guard rounded the corner. For the record, this has never happened to me but I imagine there are few situations that would make my behind pucker more than that.

My decision to come out came when I switched jobs. It seemed fitting considering it was a new job with a fresh start. The funny thing is, when I did announce it to the people in my training class, no one cared. Coming out was the best decision I ever made.

But I look back at the people I worked closely with at my previous jobs, the ones I cared about and lied to daily, and I realize that I sold them short. Maybe they wouldn’t have cared either. Maybe if I was just who I really was… me, Andrea, short, Hispanic, dedicated worker, funny, entirely too obnoxious, sometimes cute and charming, but yes, very much a lesbian…they might accept me just the same way my new work family had. And dollars to donuts if you asked any of them if they would mind if I married my lesbian partner they would say, “No, and where the heck is my invitation?” and not “Oh no honey they let the lesbians marry, let’s get a divorce lawyer!”

But we are not afforded the opportunity to have any bearing on what you see. All you see strangers you’ve never met and don’t know so it’s real easy to ignore the person behind what you see and make a blanket statement about banning gay marriage. But if you knew us, and you saw Andrea and Mary, the neighbors you’ve had for 20 years, who feed your dog when you go on vacation, who wake you up at 3a.m. to tell you some jerk did a hit and run on your car, who trade garden tips and the garden crop, who allow you to pick up pecans from our yard any time you want, maybe you wouldn’t be so quick to limit us access to the same rights you and your third wife have.

Sadly, my relationship with Mary ended after 20 years. It would have been nice to marry her and it would have been just as nice to divorce her when it was all over. I just want the same rights to ruin the sanctity of marriage that straight couples have. Is that too much to ask?