By Joy O'Donnell

This is a story of how I went from being civil marriage-free, to a veteran marriage equality activist, to civil marriage-free (again).

Karen and I became domestic partners in 2000 and then married one another in 2001 at a ceremony with over 100 of our closest family members and friends. This was long before “marriage equality” was on the national radar in any serious way. We called it a “wedding” and we called one another “wife” because we believed in the values of love and commitment and because celebration was the inevitable outcome of that love and commitment. When people—most of them gay—would critique us for calling one another “wife” and “married” because it was not a “legal” marriage we responded by thinking how completely vulgar it was that the State would have anything to do with it at all.

For years, we thought our domestic partnership and wedding/marriage were more than enough. We wrote our vows and meant every word of them—at the time that was more important to us than anything the State could ever have provided. We did not yet understand what it felt like to have civil validation for our love and commitment—along with the promise of over 1,000 federal and state rights attached to marriage. Like most Americans, we really had no idea what those rights, privileges and responsibilities even were. Then, on that euphoric and historic day—February 12, 2004—we became one of the first couples to marry in San Francisco City Hall and we finally began to understand what it meant, not only for us and for our families, but for thousands of others. Six months to the day after we were married in San Francisco, the State of California invalidated all 4,000+ marriages. We instantly became marriage equality activists…desperately seeking civil rights….which we now saw as critical to our existence.

In the years that followed, we educated people nation-wide about how in particular my disability and inability to marry intersected. In particular, we talked about how scary it was to travel and not have any kind of assurance that if I fell ill, Karen would have the ability to see me in the hospital and make critical—potentially life saving—decisions about my health. Having Multiple Sclerosis as a young woman in the prime of my life is, and was, challenging enough without the added daily mental anxiety caused by marriage discrimination. As Karen and I traveled the country sharing our story we literally had to keep on our bodies at all times a copy of our advanced healthcare directives because our domestic partnership was not valid once we crossed over state lines.

In 2005, Karen and I chose to end our relationship and discovered that even though we were legally domestic partners and our “Winter of Love” marriage had been invalidated—we would have to “divorce” legally as any heterosexual couple would. As I began to initiate the divorce or “domestic partnership dissolution,” I was stunned to discover that Karen and I would have to sign legal paperwork under penalty of perjury that started out like this, “In the Marriage of” and not “In the Domestic Partnership of”. Perhaps I was naïve to think that San Francisco—of all cities in the U.S.—would have thought to have double and triple check this point. I was still convinced that the State somehow cared about our relationship. I snapped out of the civil love spell as quickly as I put my pen to that paper.

As we know all too well, there are currently more single people globally than ever before in history and also increasingly more heterosexual couples who choose not to marry and are severely discriminated against for their choice. “Marriage equality” may just happen in our lifetime—but what then—will civil marriage itself ever be equal or create equality? Will we as gay people then erect our white picket fences in the name of quietly living out our individualistic fairy tales as “Just Us”? Or—will we remember what it feels like to be discriminated against by the State and Society for who we love and continue working for “Justice” for all—not some—relational forms?

Apparently, I had my “Happily Ever After” down pat before the intoxicating yet misdirected dream of civil marriage equality came over me. I’m happy to have it back and look forward to fighting marriage discrimination on a different front—one which is inclusive rather than exclusive—about justice, not “just us”.

Joy O’Donnell is a sexuality educator, disability rights advocate, historian and is Director of Outreach and Partnership for the National SexualityResource Center

This article appeared in AtMP's periodic newsletter, Update #2008-1.  Download the entire newsletter here.