Growing Up
As a child, I was not much different from other girls my age. I was a daddy’s girl; always attached at his hip. I liked to play with my cousins and friends. I loved to sit in the kitchen and watch my grandma carefully put together each meal. I had an older sister who I’m sure I annoyed at times, and a younger sister who returned the favor. I dreamed about what I’d be when I grew up. In my innocence I claimed I wanted to be a doctor or an astronaut. Then I grew up and realized science was a large part of those career choices. Next, I wanted to be a lawyer, then a journalist. I guess that last one stuck.
I always assumed that one day, when I met someone who treated me well and loved me unconditionally, I would get married. I knew I wanted a big wedding. I wanted all my friends and family to celebrate my joy and happiness. I wanted a big party with dancing, flowers adorning every inch of a grand ballroom, and a towering cake. I wanted to have a baby of my own to love, care for, dress up, and protect.
Reality
We often want a lot of things as children that we aren’t necessarily going to get. Once we are old enough, we realize that perhaps some of those things are out of reach. Maybe wanting to be an astronaut is something we can look back on and laugh at. We can see that we had the new, fresh eyes of a child yet to be tarnished by the real world. We laugh at our innocence and our sincere belief that anything was possible.
Difference
The difference between you and me is, not only do I have those moments when I realize I was silly to ever think I would go to space, I have to deal with the reality that I can’t get married either. I can’t have a baby as easily as I had thought. If I did have a wedding, regardless of the fact that in my state it would not be recognized and we would not have the same rights as other married couples, chances are a large number of family members wouldn’t attend because I’m a lesbian. If I were to decide to have a child with my future wife, one of us wouldn’t be recognized as a “legitimate” parent of the child we decided to bring into the world and raise together. If we did have a child, we would have to figure out what to tell our child the first time their peers make fun of them or cast them out because they have two mommies. How do we console our child when the world tells them that they are a product of something unnatural? How do you explain the blatant stares and slurs cast on us on a daily basis?
As I transcribe my realities into this post, I am at the verge of tears. My tears are shed because all of these realities shouldn’t exist. I shouldn’t have to base my desire to have a child on worries of the world punishing them for something they could not help. I shouldn’t have to give up my dream of a wedding with all my loved ones in attendance. I shouldn’t be discriminated against because I love someone the government says I shouldn’t.
My tears are just as real as yours. My future family is just as valid as yours. My love is just as strong as yours. Don’t I deserve to have the same rights as yours?
The majority of the United States still prohibits same-sex marriage; including my state of Texas. See where your state falls in the equality department on the HRC website.