Real Weddings and Real Weddings

Real Weddings and Real Weddings

There are real weddings and there are real weddings.

I was in a fuchsia silk corset with a black underdress. Julie was in green silk—the same pattern—and an ecru underdress. We walked down the stone steps together, one behind the other.

It was July 2004 in Silver Spring, Maryland, 8:30 in the evening. Same-sex marriage wasn’t legal in Maryland, wasn’t anything, as far as my lawyer boss was concerned. She said, “You aren’t really married.” I asked her never to say that to me again.

For us, as for many people who have been legally prevented from marrying, what we built was ours, what we made was ours, the ceremony we wrote and the wedding we had was ours.

Vows, Flowers, Candles, Rings, and Cord

I and my beloved were clear, we were getting married in the embrace of the Goddess, our family, community, and the gathered Elements. The breath of the late-evening breeze, water tripping over stones in the koi pond and the flowers in niches all over the space and the house, and the lanterns and torches that lit our ritual space.

We arrived at the space to find our way blocked by two teen girls, one in white, one in black, one with a broom, one with a sword. Their tools were crossed, and we would not enter the Circle until we answered four questions, one from each of our Quarter Callers, our attendants.

We answered our questions and the space was opened to us. We walked in and stood before the Four Quarters Stonesingers.

We said our vows—for the East. We lit our candle—for the South. We made libation and shared a cup of the best mead you’ll ever have—for the West. We exchanged our rings—for the North. And then our priest gave his words and tied our hands in the holy sign of handfasting. As we jumped the broom with our hands together, a dear friend who came up in the side show world of Coney Island blew a plume of fire above us, signifying our union and the glory of the party to come.

The Four Elements matched our four cakes—or rather, the cakes matched the Elements. Including the one from When Harry Met Sally, the coconut cake with chocolate sauce on the side.

This whole scene is what we call our “real” wedding. It’s the wedding that had the rehearsal dinner. The open bar (many thanks to my mother for tending when the volunteer catering staff got exhausted). The most delicious foods and offerings to Oshun, Orisha of love and sexuality. The ritual. The people. It was the wedding that sealed our love before nearly all those who matter to us. July 17, 2004.

A Simple Bouquet

But then Massachusetts beckoned. We were invited to sign the ketubah at the wedding of friends. The bride and groom asked us and another couple—longtime friends of the bride’s family—to sign the ketubah. This Jewish tradition is that the bride and groom ask those whose relationships they admire to sign the wedding contract, the ketubah, as witnesses. It was a tremendous honor.

When in Rome…it was not the only wedding that week.

Tim and Megan, our soon-to-be newlyweds, also came to the Boston Clerk of Court with us. They brought me a bouquet of flowers. They smiled and celebrated and took us out for champagne afterward.

The Boston Clerk of Court asked us briefly about our relationship, and we talked about our wedding of five years previous.

The lovely Clerk said exactly the right thing:  “You are already married. I am merely the agent of the Commonwealth acknowledging that marriage.” That acknowledgement also created a real wedding.

What she said is what those who have solemnized the unions of thousands of same-sex unions should be saying. Especially for those of us who have been in relationships for years. “You are already married.”

And that is not to say that legalizing same-sex marriage doesn’t matter. It simply means that thousands of us have lived in committed, blessed, grace-filled unions for years and years.

It is also not to say that thousands of us didn’t cry tears of joy when the decision came down.

It is also not to say that the 1400 state and federal rights that come with legal marriage are worth nothing. Those rights are part and parcel of why legal marriage has been so important.

There is a “real” wedding and a “real” wedding. In Boston, October 8, 2009, the Commonwealth of Massachusetts honored what July 17, 2004 had celebrated.

Each had its place. Each had it purpose. And each has its anniversary. Just like the one we celebrate this week.