Chapter 15
This whole gay wedding thing confuses me. Mainly because I’ve never really been in a relationship of any sort (notwithstanding Curfew Boy, and the definition for that is still up for grabs), and I don’t think I’ve ever thought about a man beyond “Well, once we’ve hooked up, maybe we’ll be able to do it again some time”, but mostly because I’m not sure why either side is so incredibly vehement about it.
I’m not completely clueless. I understand that for gay men and women at least, the social permission to get married breaks one of those many semi-permanent taboos, in that it admits them to the realm of hetero-orthodoxy and sort of makes society as a conceptual whole acknowledge the validity of their relationship (and on a more practical note, confers many legal and fiscal benefits). But the whole idea of marriage, which in my mind seems to be aimed at creating a stable structure in which to produce and raise children…well, isn’t it just a little dated?
The thing is, I don’t think gay men and women need or should need to get married in order to prove a point, or to gain benefits. Quite honestly, I don’t think straight men and women should be required to get married either; it’s supposed to be this grand gesture of eternal devotion and love and all that jazz, but I have trouble seeing it as more than a cleverly disguised contract. If you have such real depth to your relationship that you want to get married, it shouldn’t require stamps and ceremonies to be effective. Then again, admittedly, what do I know?
I’ve never loved anyone enough to think that I’d want to get married.
I’ve never thought I’d live long enough to have children. Nor have I wanted to.
I’ve never felt that there’d be someone out there who’d want to marry me.
It’s not really more complicated than that. What amazes me is that this is such a non-issues in some ways, so why in the world are people emerging in droves with hysterical screams about “the sanctity of marriage”, and how letting two men or women go through a formalised ritual that allows them to demonstrate that they’re now (as Bridget Jones so rightly puts it) “Smug Marrieds”, is in any way threatening “the institution of marriage”? For goodness’ sake, if the so-called edifice of matrimonial bliss is so weak that by certification of affection it’s going to fall apart so easily, maybe the damn’ thing needs to be re-considered. I mean, who does it hurt?
Marriage is such a large part of all things Pakistani, especially as you get into your early twenties, that in a way I feel incredibly qualified to write about this, as a highly informed spectator. And I remember how awful it is to feel left out of the big fortnight-long celebrations, the gifts of cash and blenders and houses, and people fussing over you because it’s your special day; not on the very instant, but at the thought that this is something you can never have. And in the sense that it allows people to have an option, good on everyone who came out and supported gay marriage.
That said, why is it so important for us to live by rules other people have imposed on themselves? Why is it not enough–and really, in the gay world where a vast majority of the denizens consider anything beyond an eight-hour stay a long-term relationship–why isn’t it enough to love someone and to know you’re loved, and to be content with that? I can’t even imagine marriage because I can’t imagine being in a position where someone turns to me and says “I love you”; in that wonderful phrase the corporate world uses with such gay abandon (no pun intended), where does getting married “add value” to a relationship that has already reached a particular level of commitment and trust and love?
Because I’ll tell you–for some of us, it’s mythical for no good reason. If you’re fortunate enough to come to terms with your sexuality at an early age, as I was, you get some sort of vague buffer against that intense roller-coaster ride, the emotional battering that comes as your body, your instincts, your mind, your heart all tell you that even though you’re doing everything you can to be “normal”, to conform and figure out what the hell you’re supposed to be doing, where you’re going, how you’re getting there, and all the while, you keep thinking to yourself as people talk (in Pakistan, incessantly) about marriage and weddings and kids and families, you’re never going to have that. Not here anyway.
And you always feel like you’re never going to be a real person. Real people have husbands and wives, and kids, and complain about the cost of diapers. They mutter imprecations against expensive private schools that cost the sun and the moon and the stars, and stumble around in the middle of the night with half-filled milk-bottles. Real persons are the ones who have the stamp of “you’re fitting in just fine, with your 2.3 Labradors and 1.8 children”, but we homos, we faggots and fudgepackers, dykes and lesbos, we’re always the ones who wind up–in the face of all our pride, such as it may be–feeling on some level, that there’s something wrong with us. Sometimes, maybe, that we’re not worthy of the approval or love that marriage is supposed to represent, because if we are, then why aren’t we allowed to get married too?
So on some level, I get it. I don’t necessarily agree or empathise with the amount or degree of importance being given to the notion that we can now be just like straight people (because to me, on some level, that’s what it comes down to), but I understand. (And who knows, maybe I will one day, but I’m not holding my breath.) What I don’t understand, and never will, is the notion that some asshole somewhere opposes the notion of treating other people equitably because s/he believes that s/he has a direct link into the mind of his/her deity and allowing two homosexuals to enter an artificial societal structure (stricture even?) so shaky that allowing the certification of commitment between two people–not gay, not straight, not men, not women; just people–is some sort of apocalyptic portent.
Fuck that. You want to get married, get married. You don’t, you don’t. You love each other enough to know you’ll be there forever, then you know it. But don’t let anyone else tell you that you’re not good enough.
You know where I stand on this — ISTR you offered choreography for my own wedding, which you’ll note still hasn’t happened because neither of us can quite be bothered and, well, various things you already said. But there’s no denying that the legal ramifications are a consideration. And, as I said at the time, the fact that it really pisses off so many people who, frankly, deserve to be pissed off has to count in its favour…
I don’t see the huge deal too - a commitment ceremony (dear god not an obscene shaadi drama though … too gaudy) is more than enough without all the licence, specially if you’re getting other rights.
But Greta here talked about a really good ancient-cultural-link reason why marriage still is special : http://gretachristina.typepad.com/greta_christinas_weblog/2008/06/i-do—-and-why.html
[which is kind of like the point you made also, of how marriage is such a huge part of our society etc ... ]
Marry me! I’ve got the 2.3 labradors. You can bring the blenders.
“Quite honestly, I don’t think straight men and women should be required to get married either; it’s supposed to be this grand gesture of eternal devotion and love and all that jazz, but I have trouble seeing it as more than a cleverly disguised contract. If you have such real depth to your relationship that you want to get married, it shouldn’t require stamps and ceremonies to be effective.”
I don’t know…but when it comes to me, I’ve always been of the opinion that marriage doesn’t mean something but then it DOES, if it makes sense. I’d want to get married, have babies, etc with the love of my life, though I know full well that marriage is by no means any insurance against anything. I’ve met people who have been in a relationship for over 12 years, have had kids, etc but aren’t married, and they are very stable, monogamous, etc.
“I’ve never felt that there’d be someone out there who’d want to marry me.”
I want to marry you. But since you are gay, you wouldn’t give me-ahem- certain things back in exchange, and that would piss me off, which in turn would make me bitchy and sharp, and then you’d be really, really miserable. And that’s no fun
If I didn’t honour rights and freedoms as much as I do, I’d be looking forward to the day when marriage, itself, would be a stigma …
this is such a great post, sweetheart. i love this line:
“And you always feel like you’re never going to be a real person. Real people have husbands and wives, and kids, and complain about the cost of diapers.”
but you know…i used to be against marriage too. i thought all of the above and then some. i hate to admit it but a i think a bit of it had to do with the fact that i was never in a real position to decide. had i consistently met men i would have considered marrying and kept on turning them down, it would have been different. but i said yes to the first guy i could actually marry and am still in it. and i love it. i don’t see it as a grand gesture of eternal devotion and i don’t even think i’ll be married forever (i give it another few years) but while i’m there, i’m happy and i intend to be absolutely cynicism free about it (best as i can manage, at least!).
also, like most women, i ALSO want to marry you. not that that’s any help, is it?!
I’ve always wanted to attend a gay pakistani wedding, just to see how people will cope with the absence of that particular conversation saver “the bride looks so beautiful”. I want to see people scrambling for something honest to say on the day like, what they are thinking…”jeez i hope it lasts through a couple of years” but no its always about the bride’s make up.
I live with my grandmother, who married off five daughters and cannot comprehend my need to escape marriage, she told me very emphatically when i raised the “why cant two people be in love and committed without needing to sign a lousy piece of paper” argument that marriage was an insurance policy… it meant that if you put in the time and effort in your relationship then breaking from it ought to cost you, which is why people would stick it out. I proceeded to ask her, why it was worth it two people ’sticking it out and being miserable’ just for the sake of appearances rather than cut off a redundant bond, but i was told the world wasnt ready for such heretical notions yet.
So im going to wait till it is.
Oh and you’re right, much as i fear marriage, i have yet to find another definition of becoming a ‘real person’. I thought owning your own place made you real, your serious one needs a person in that place…sheesh, now thats a problem.
hmm…sorry that was a bit of a rant. I blame the subject matter.
I have been married for 14 years to a man I’ve been with for 17.5 years. We are real people, though we have no kids and no interest whatsoever in discussing diapers. I am not unaware of societal expectations, and I’m sure there are cultural differences as well. There’s not much you can do about them, EXCEPT you have a choice whether to internalize them, or to continue to internalize them once you recognize their falsity.
It’s all well and good to take apart the institution of marriage as archaic, economic, and unnecessary, and you wouldn’t be wrong in your assessments, but I really think the root of your critique is here: “I’ve never loved anyone enough to think that I’d want to get married.”