Badge of Honor

Button available at zazzle.com 

I can explain the division of our country in one powerful sentence excerpted from a conversation with my dad on the phone tonight, where he stated, “You and Katie wear your being gay like a badge of honor, and make sure everyone knows about it.”

I didn’t know I had a badge, much less one of honor, but now I know what it looks like to some.

As were furthered our conversation I realized that his comment was not born of hatred or anger or even embarrassment, but simply founded from fear…..fear of the unknown….fear of something he’s never seen percolate to its finale.  Maybe if he had been surrounded with more non-traditional relationships growing up, he wouldn’t think as he does.  Maybe if he had been subjected to more loving relationships, he wouldn’t be as afraid.  But the truth of the matter is that we’re all just a product of our own small worlds and what we think we know to be true.

It’s fear that keeps us separated as a people.  It’s fear that keeps us from fully listening to a contradicting opinion, for it may hold an ounce or resemblance to our own.  It’s fear that chokes us into believing that we can’t give freely to someone else for panic that it might deplete our own supply.  It’s fear that keeps us from accepting one another because we don’t know what it would look like, and it’s fear that makes my dad think when I introduce my wife as my partner, other mother, or wife, that I’m trying to be militant about being gay.  

Entwined in an almost-20 year relationship with my wife, with whom I’ve shared 5 feral cats, 3 apartments, 3 dogs, 3 homes, 3 fish, 2 children, 2 pregnancy losses, 2 hermit crabs, 1 frog, and all of our history, family, and friends, I do wear a badge of honor, that of love.  I am damn proud of it too, not because Katie’s a woman or because we were allowed to get married or because I bucked the system, but because this shit is hard!

To maintain any relationship is hard, but to not only maintain, but sometimes almost overturn the boat and other times rock the hell out of this marriage, is a pure miracle, peppered with a lot of hard work.

Thank you, Dad, for sharing your thoughts with me.  I’m a better person because of our conversations, even though I don't always like them nor their topics.  I don’t judge you or feel angry with your comments, as I know exactly where they came from….the only thing you know, same as all of us.  But now it's time for all of us to see something different and challenge what we know, so that we can see the world for what it is....filled with a variety of people different than us.

The Story of My Life

Fifth-grade Flash Mob Dance practice trumps the wedding registration party at Macy’s.  The entertainer I’ve loved for years is never asked to perform in lieu of a surprise song from our kids.  The venue we’ve chosen is a bar and leads almost every guest to ask in advance “What is the appropriate attire?” to which I am forced to standardly reply “Same thing you’d wear to any other fucking wedding!”  A head full of lice shows up just hours before out-of-town guests arrive for our in-home night-before –the nuptials party for 50.  And let’s not forget my therapist, or my life-line, as I like to call her, has been on indefinite medical leave for weeks, leaving me scrambling for sanity.

It sounds like typical wedding-planning drama to me.  Worthy of a reality show?  Probably not.  But definitely makes for a good story.  I love good stories.  They’re pretty much my mainstay for survival.  A tall tale to make you laugh when you need a release, an embellished version of an embarrassing incident to make someone feel like they’re not alone in their humiliation, or the simple recanting of a family legend, worn smooth over the years by being told so often, and bringing warmth to your heart.

This past year I’ve been accumulating an insane chapter of my life story, as I’ve been manically planning an organized event that I didn’t want:  a wedding.  A fancy, indulgent, corny public display and affirmation of my love for another person was never one of my wishes as a child. I never got into happily-ever-after fairy-tale wedding stories aimed at little girls and I never flipped through bridal magazines as a teen or young adult for anything other than a new trendy hairstyle while waiting for my turn at the salon.  And I certainly wasn’t upset when my accountant told my partner and me many moons ago that we were ‘better off’ from a tax-standpoint being in an unmarried gay relationship than in a traditional marriage. 

It’s not that I have anything against a committed union of individuals promising their love to each other for eternity.  From a young age, I learned to love hard and freely, which I have continued to do through adulthood.  But I’ve never associated love and/or passion with marriage.  Maybe it’s because the modeling marriage of my parents was not ideal, or maybe it was because I wanted nothing more than to claim my independence, or maybe it’s because deep down I knew that I was gay and that gay folks couldn’t get married.  Suffice to say that it was just never a dream of mine.  No daydreams about what it would be like to walk down an isle in a white dress while Ava Maria was being sung, nor to be announced as Mr. & Mrs. Blah Blah Blah, nor to be recognized by church and state as legally wed.  That being said, I feel as if I’ve been reaping the important benefits of a marriage for the past fifteen years with my partner:  commitment, devotion, and love through thick and thin. 

Getting married, however, has ALWAYS been an aspiration for my now-wife. The ceremony, the dress, the giving away of the bride, the ‘I Do’s, the big-ass reception, and everything else fairy-tale wedding-oriented had always been a pipedream for her.  In an effort to meet that notion some seven years ago, I’d secretly planned a private commitment ceremony on the beach in Maui, complete with rings, flowers, a minister, and gorgeous photos that still line our bedroom walls.  But in my book, we were same as hitched way before then, dating back to the day we decided to grow our family, first with a dog and then with kids.  No matter how you sliced it, though, I thought we were covered.

Yet in the months leading up to the push toward marriage equality in Illinois last year, my girlfriend and I spent many any hour talking about what we would do if the laws did change.  We both felt we would be crazy not to get married, even if just for the ease of dealing with external forces when it came to shared children, property, and resources.  We decided a small informal ceremony with just us and our two kids would be nice and would be a compromise between both of our desires.  We were unsure if the four of us would take a little trip afterwards or host a celebration party if we decided to include our friends and family.  You know, something small and intimate.

But the day that our gay marriage law was passed, all of our plans went out the window.  Wrought with emotion that trumped any ideas we had laid out, my partner started mapping out her big fantasy wedding.  I was stunned with the news, as I truly didn’t think that the law would pass and stick so quickly:  I was taken off guard.  It’s possible I may have bought into the idea of a traditional wedding celebration as well, but it’s hard to trace back to where reality ends and illusion begins.  The one thing I do know is that within a few weeks, I was overwhelmed and uncomfortable with the path that was being paved for this wedding.  In addition to me having no want or need for the convention of marriage outside of practicality, I had no interest in taking on the expense nor the planning of such an event.  Over and over again I was adamant with my partner that this had to be nipped in the bud.  She’d agree amicably, but then I’d look into her eyes and see the hope looming there that maybe I would change my mind;  I am a lot of things, but a dream crusher is not one of them.

So for the next nine month, I vacillated daily between dedicated practical planner of a big, important event and anxious, sulking teenager who was “over it” because she didn’t get her way.  It was a real internal struggle for me that would often bust out into my daily life, via coffee talk with my friends, frequent bitch sessions with my soon-to-be wife and weekly appointments with the therapist I begrudgingly hired to help me work through the opposing parts of myself.

At the end of the day, my wife's girlhood vision made it to actuality, albeit slightly different than imagined in her head, yet every ounce as fulfilling and meaningful as she’d thought it would be.  But the kicker is that the wedding itself ended up being for me everything that I ever wanted in life, but never knew I needed.  Surrounded by so many of our friends and family, yet each one of them included in the intimacy of our family being joined in matrimony, it was nothing short of awesome.  The love and bond I shared on that day for my wife, my family, and every loved one in attendance, will stay etched in my soul.  It’s already been tested with the trials , tribulations, and sometimes mundane existence of married life (please don’t forget  we’ve already been together 15 years and the shit that comes along with that doesn’t just change overnight) and that light is burning just as bright. 

Looking back, I probably wouldn’t have kicked and screamed as hard as I did against the idea of marriage if I knew then the way I’d feel now.  But that’s part of the beauty of the story of our lives:  sometimes we can’t recognize we’re on top of the world until we’ve traveled to the depths of its core. 

Next Stop, Reality TV

What does it mean when someone sends you a link to an open casting call for a reality TV show?

I wonder because I got an email from a friend a few days ago, with a forwarded casting call for different moms to appear in a new reality TV show.  The email had the subject line, TV Opportunities, and my friend’s personal note above the body of email was “Thought of you guys!  Maybe you are interested?”

The first thing that comes to mind is that maybe this friend, who does not have children of her own, just thinks that every mom is in-freakin’-sane, based on the mouthful she gets from each of us every time we talk.  Speaking for myself, I usually have diarrhea of the mouth when we get together with her, as I’ve usually been devoid of adult conversation for hours or days on end, and the jumble of words that comes out in conversation touches on issues like naptime, homework, preschool snack, and annoying entitled parents.  It sounds like Charlie Brown’s teacher….wah wah wah wah wah wah.  Honestly, if I didn't have kids of my own and was on the outside looking in at today’s overly protective, over-scheduling mothers, I know with absolute certainty I would think the same thing!  For crying out loud, I AM a mom, and I think that now. 

My second thought about the reality TV show suggestion was that she was just trying to connect the dots and hook people up with opportunities.  This particular friend is not only a generally caring and network-positive person, but she also used to have the dream of wanting to be a soap star.  From the time I met her about 20 years ago, and throughout the next decade, during which we were roomies for a few years, she followed her goal by attending college for acting and TV, hung out with the prerequisite artsy fartsy folks, and even moved to Los Angeles after graduation to be more available to audition for her “stories.”  Conversely, ever since she’s known me, I wanted to be famous, not as a soap star, but as the next Oprah Winfrey talk show host.  So maybe she keeps up with the TV opportunities for herself, even though she lives back in Chicago now and works in the academia world, and just thought the series might be a vehicle to my onetime quest for fame and passed the info along.

Or, it could mean that my life as a gay mom to two girls and a partner/almost wife to my girlfriend, and the life we lead in the middle of a completely straight, yet totally open community, is like a circus.  Maybe it's just a circus to her because she doesn't have kids, or is no longer gay, as she once used to think she was.  OR maybe she knows lots of moms and I'm the only one whose real-life stories sound like a dumbed-down mom-version of Mob Wives, with all the kid-fights and trials and tribulations of parenthood, and I'm Big Ang, the over-the-top character who in no way can be taken seriously.  I'm dramatic and I embellish my stories to others.

In fact, I heard my 10-year-old point out to my partner just this week that, “’Little Mama’ tends to reword or rework the stories she tells describing real events that took place to make a different version that's more interesting.”

Um, smart kid.  Maybe she's the reason my family would make a good reality family.

Or maybe we’d be a good TV family because I've never heard of a ‘Big Mama’ and a’ Little Mama’ as heads of household on a TV show before.

Or maybe she forwarded the opportunity because she thought it would be a good fit for me and she’s giving me a compliment, as it calls for “moms with big TV personalities, but know how to keep their family in line.”

Whatever the case, it made me stop and laugh, and of course consider if I could find a way to get my girlfriend to sign off on having her life documented in a reality TV show, and trade my staunch opposition to exploiting young children for the purpose of fame for their signatures on the dotted line.

Today is the Day

My aversion to information is born out of my radio days, some 15+ years ago, when I hosted and produced morning-drive talk radio programs.  Sounds exciting right?  It was, hands down.  I loved every minute of working in radio.  For a few years of my early 20's, I would get up at 2:30 am every weekday morning, commute to the radio station to arrive by 4am, pull fresh stories off the AP wire and other notable sources, quickly rewrite them, and either deliver the news myself or else use the tidbits to spark discussion with co-hosts or callers. 

After a few years, I switched gears and moved into real estate, where I kept abreast of the industry-specific trends and how they related to the world at large, but I never again subscribed to a newspaper, listened to news on the radio or TV,  nor listened to talk radio.  It's as if I was just burnt out on information from the media.Over the years, I've gotten the occasional bug to take a whole morning and read the Tribune cover-to-cover or get sucked into a 20/20 episode, but I have literally made it a point NOT to suck up information if it's at all humanly possible.

Fast forward to a pair of impressionable young minds living in my own household.  Yes, I've kept up with most issues over the years by default of conversation from my girlfriend, parents, and friends, which then motivates me to look up specific points or data on the topics just so I can talk on point.  But I don't read about or get involved with politics, local, national, or world issues, unless I'm hit over the head with it or unless a headline from the Redeye sparks my attention.

Traditionally, I'm not a big activist for anything.  I hold a lot of opinions and am not afraid at all to share them, but nine times out of ten, when sharing opinions, it initiates debate that usually sheds light on new perspectives or facts that I hadn't previously considered, which thereby alters my opinions.  You see I rarely jump on board a major issue train unless I'm fully educated on the topic, and I am not fully educated on most things, unless, like Marriage Equality, they specifically pertain to me or someone I know.

The gay marriage issue was a no-brainer for me, since I've been in a committed relationship with my girlfriend for the past fourteen years.  We have two kids together, we jointly own property and investments, and we're considered 'married' by everyone we know, even those that politically may not agree with Marriage Equality.  Marriage Equality needed to be legislated, in my opinion.

I had no plans on getting involved, though, in the fight.  The invitation came from friends.  First it was the invite from a neighbor to the Marriage Equality fundraiser at a local bar I'd been wanting to try out.  Then it was the request from another friend who is also a gay parent, that urged me to take my girls out of school and join her in a day-trip to the Illinois capital city to participate in the March on Springfield and rally in support of Marriage Equality. 

After we got home late that evening, I realized that I had exposed my kids to standing up for something bigger than themselves.  I had shown them the example of how to make a difference and be part of a solution.  No matter what happened with the issue, and I honestly had no clear indication of how it would play out, I knew I wanted my kids to be educated on things that matter from here on out.

The bill passed and we're now planning a wedding for late summer, in which our kids will take part.  The issue was pretty much of a non-issue for our girls.  They never understood why we couldn't get married anyway, as they are being raised in a time period, and in a geographical location and community where kids don't see a problem with kids having 2 moms instead of a mom and dad.  They're also around lots of adults who mostly feel the same way, but even if they didn't, are uber-PC and wouldn't say anything otherwise to make our kids feel bad about having 2 moms.  It's just the way it is.  My oldest even gave a current-events speech at school on the Illinois Marriage Equality issue, one in which I drilled her in preparation for all sorts of protests or at least debate she may encounter with the issue.  She got nothing.

Conversely, we're heading to Dallas in March for a gay wedding, or actually just a reception, as the guys had to get married in another state, since Texas legislation prohibits marriage equality.  My girls don't understand why their moms can get married here, but our good friends can't get married in Texas.

"It doesn't make any sense," my 5-year-old logically stated.


Nope.  It doesn't.  My 10-year-old had a bit of an answer for her little sister, in that it was a state-by-state decision.  She had learned this from her research on Illinois gay marriage.  What she hadn't learned, though, was that the issue was still in the forefront of US history, being hashed out state by state, since it was passed here.  I had seen the Facebook posts and headline updates on yahoo, but I'd never once thought to share the information with my kids.  I'd never once thought that it might be important to them, or that it would affect people we know.

I realized that I hadn't kept my promise of educating myself and my kids further on issues that not only affect us, but on issues that simply have a clear side for us to stand on. While it's great that my daughter was able to fill in the blanks for my little one, as she can seek out issues and news on her own now, it became apparent to me that I need to start taking a more active role in the news and issues of our day, so that I can not only be knowledgeable myself, but also so that I can help answer questions and/or debate issues with my very-informed children, and be knowledgeable enough to help them form their own opinions.

So, today is the day I draw a line in the sand regarding what's important. Today, I vow to pull myself up by my bootstraps and get back on that horse.  Today is the day I pull my head out of the sand and get up to speed on what's going on in this world.  I can't promise I'll debate the issues or even have an interest in much of what I learn, but I do promise to be aware from this day forward.

Any suggestions on where to start?