Believe me, I support the fight for gay individuals to enjoy all the same rights as straight folks. Yet as this ancient feminist watches the entire gay marriage fight from the sidelines I can’t help but wonder just what the hell, exactly, gays believe they are fighting for. I fully understand the need and the right to legally recognized civil unions. What I can’t comprehend is the desire of the gay community to participate in a tradition fermented in subjugation, dehumanization and every evil of the unchallenged patriarchy. You’d think, above all Americans, gays would be the first in line reject all that stuff. Go figure.
Back in the day, before “feminist” was a progressive cuss word, we saw marriage for exactly what it was always intended to be — a dolled up dog and pony show designed to make palatable a simple but critical business transaction — the purchase of a woman with the intent of transforming her into dutiful domesticated chattel and brood mare, aka a “wife”.
And now gay partners want in on the practice, even in the face of virulent defense of sexist bedrock tradition and at the expense of more attainable gay rights. Oh well. Maybe gay marriage would once and for all refashion what a marriage really is and all a wedding represents. Good luck with that, by the way. Feminists are pretty much done beating their heads on that cave wall.
I came of age at a time when removing “obey” from the bridal vows was still radically non-conformist and sure to raise more than a few eyebrows. Note we still live in a country where James Dobson and his ilk preach to millions of believers the importance of a woman’s deference to her husband’s “rule” as ordained by God and critical to a successful marriage.
Up until the past century, a western marriage was nothing more than a transaction between father and groom where ownership of an unwilling woman was transferred for a host of decidedly unromantic reasons — to end a feud, cement an alliance or trade a hungry mouth for a pair of fertile hips. In most of the rest of the world, it still is. Over the centuries until not that long ago, women were bought and sold into marriage, transported across oceans and continents to marry strangers to better plow and populate the wilderness, forced into marriage by shame, embarrassment and parental decree, and rejected if they proved intractable or infertile.
My shock has dissolved into decades of pained amusement watching supposedly enlightened free women continue to change their surnames when they marry, or hack up their identities with hyphens and multiple muddled middle names. I am one of a small handful of my high school pals that married and yet can still be found by my birth name — the rest having evaporated into marital anonymity as Mrs. Somebodyelse. I never changed my name when I married (and paid for that choice dearly) and my defense (repeated constantly for over two decades) was simple — getting married does not change who I am and it should not disconnect me from who I always was. My marriage seeking gay friends might be surprised to find out how unacceptable and insulting most found that rationale when selfishly applied to something as fundamental and defining as your own name. “What about the children! How will they know who they are!” sigh. Apparently, with daughters, that would be a non-issue.
Speaking of children, it really has always been all about bloodlines, inheritance and children. Beyond the acquisition of a live-in whore and beast of burden, marriage in its pure and traditional form ensured a man his true blood descendants, with few things worse than being born a “bastard” and cheating with or by a married woman a capital offense.
But you know what I find most disturbing? Gay marriage ceremonies that innocently co-opt the traditions built upon the making sacred of rape, conquest and the guarantee of fecundity. Seriously. Enlightened progressives. What ARE you thinking? So much of the trappings of contemporary marriage ceremonies are holdovers from the good old days of female servitude — the presentation of the veiled virgin; someone, if not Dad, enlisted to (symbolically, of course) “give away” the virgin; groomsmen and a “best man” who were first needed back in the day if a bride was to be taken by force, in the event no one could be convinced to just give her up willingly. Carrying over the threshold? Pelting with fertility symbols? Rituals of mock conquest? Dowries dressed up as bridal showers and rape raids hosed off into “bachelor parties”? ugh. Please, gay community, choose your “wedding traditions” wisely, if and when the day ever comes.
Then there’s how we even still continue to channel our daughters towards only one path to utter womanly fulfillment — first comes love, then comes marriage, then comes that lucky little lady with a baby carriage. The contemporary fairy tale of rescue and validation by a man still captivates little and not so little girls into bride doll dreams of spending their parents’ second mortgage in a Bridezilla style spending fest. And an entire multi-billion dollar industry feeds on that first female angst while picking Mom and Dad’s wallet clean in the bulimic pursuit of perfect bridedom. And yet the divorce rate climbs above 50% — happily ever after my ass. Yeah, if I was gay in these days of progressive agendaism my first thought would sure be “sign me up right now for some of that.”
Speaking of divorce, I hate to break it to the gay community, but divorce really really sucks. (Given how common divorce has become in spite of that…just imagine the horrors of the alternative) Every marrying couple should be advised to set aside ten grand or so for the lawyers because there are few things worse than wanting a divorce and not being able to afford one, or being fleeced by an angry partner who can. Count on not only dividing your assets (undoubtedly unfairly) but confusing your friends, stressing your relations, fucking with your kids’ heads and wasting hours of brain time wondering why you got married in the first place. (surely to be compounded after fighting for the “right” to this crap in the first place) Understand, as well, the court system does not recognize any rights to compensation for mistakenly co-mingling your assets with an asshole.
If I was thirty years younger right now the ranting feminist me would be head afire over the gay community’s inadvertent promotion of marriage, a most barbaric of modern practices, only a half notch above circumcision. At this age, I’m just confused and amused. Seriously, is the inability to marry the most tragic aspect of gay existence? It simply can’t be or else ya’ll are some of the luckiest SOBs on earth.
I assume I’ve grossly offended all the currently deliriously happily and utterly equally married out there. Take heart that I must just be a bitter old crone who just doesn’t get it, even if the odds are mounting against your ongoing connubial bliss. Again, I fully understand the fight for civil unions. Marriage? Be careful what you fight for.
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