Here’s a short story I wrote last year.
‘You’re invited to a friend’s houseparty. So, you go and have a couple of drinks. You see your friends, and you talk to them. You have a good time, the conversation is flowing smoothly, the people are on your level, the night is just right. Then.. you spot someone and you feel compelled to smile at them. They smile back at you. You acknowledge the smile and continue talking to your friends. You try to listen to them – you see their lips moving and hands flapping about, but nothing is registering in your mind. Why? Because you’re still thinking about that person. You feel butterflies flying around in your stomach, your pulse quickens and your tongue feels dry, just like the Sahara desert
Shit. What is this? You turn around to look at them and you see that they’re already looking at you. You quickly turn back and feel embarrassed that they caught you looking, but you feel slightly glad that they were already looking at you first though, and a small smirk appears on your face.
“Hello? Earth to (insert name here)..? Are you listening? The lights are on, but nobody’s home.”
Your friends notice that you’re paying no attention.
“Ah, sorry. I guess my mind was elsewhere.”
“Pfft.. I can see that. Go and talk to them. Do it.”
Your friends encourage you. You take a huge gulp of your Vodka and lemonade and slam it down on the table. The alcohol goes to your head a little bit, and the intoxication gives you the false courage you need. You smoothly turn around and swagger your way over to them.
You trip over and fall flat on your face, directly at their feet.
“Oh shit, that must have hurt. Are you alright?”
But you can’t respond because your heart is in your mouth, your blood rushes to your face and you’re dyslexic in the head.
“Ow. I fell.”
Well done. Real smooth.
But it works. They laugh.
“A person of many words, aren’t you? Come on, lets get you a drink, and I’ll have a look at your knee.”
You talk all night.
You feel so comfortable, so you tell them about what a retard you are. You tell them about the time when you were 6, and rode your bike into a metal portable goal and split your lips open. You tell them about the time you played strip poker at school. You also tell them about how you felt when your friend died. They tell you about how they broke into the staffroom and drank the teachers bourbon, they tell you about the time they broke their ribs playing softball, and they trust you enough to tell you how they felt when they found out their mum had cancer. The bond is made, the trust is there. The attraction is undeniable, you want to kiss them but the moment isn’t right. It’s late – it’s 3am, there are people shouting, jostling and drinks are being spilt all over the floor, much to your friend’s disgust. So, you ask for their number, give them a kiss on the cheek and leave, promising to set up a date.
You get home, and you have an argument in your head about whether or not you should text them now, or play it cool?
“Hey you.. it’s (insert name here).. I’m home. Did you get home ok?”
You wait, and 30 seconds later, you get a reply.
“What took you so long to text?”
A smile appears on your face, and you reply back.
You have your first date. You take them out on a boat and you bring a blanket, a flask of hot chocolate, marshmallows and Milkybar buttons (because you remember them saying they loved it) and… you take out a jar and put a rose in it and you set sail. You talk about everything – your hopes, your dreams and your aims.. you also talk about the past and the pain you’ve both been through. The moment is right – you kiss, and it’s everything you imagined it to be.
The weeks goes by so fast. Dates after dates, kisses after kisses..
The months goes by so fast. Dates after dates, sex after sex.. romantic sex, quick sex, angry sex, make up sex.. all kinds of sex.
One night.. they utter the words, “I love you.” and gone is the awkward person you were that very first night you both met. You know just what to say this time.
“I love you too.”
Everything is just right.
You move in together. You go to IKEA, and you jump on the beds, they pretend to take a shower, you potter around in the kitchen, and both pretend to take a bath in the bathtub and you kiss, much to the children’s amusement.
“Mummy. Look at them! They’re kissing in the bath!”
“Don’t look. They’re just being silly. Come on, now.”
She scolds the children, gives you a dirty look and walks away.
“Boy.. some people need to lighten up.”
Slowly, but surely, the house you moved into becomes a home.
You know the time is right.
You take them to the first place you had your date. You get into the boat, and you sail away again.
“I love my life with you. I love how we go out to work and rush back home, just so we can see each other. I love how we hold hands and go to parties that we end up ditching to drink wine out of the bottle in the bathtub. I love how we go to the cinema and end up kissing in the back row like children. I love how we slow dance in the bedroom with an unmade bed and candles on the fireplace. I love it. I want to do it with you forever. Marry me.”
And just like that, with one word, your world is shattered.
“It’s illegal. We can’t marry. The government won’t let us.”
Yes, I know that the romantic story was slightly random. But I wanted you to get sucked into it, to experience love in its purest form. Notice how I never once mentioned whether or not they were female or male? I did that because I wanted you to forget about gender for a while, and just appreciate the story for what it was, an amazing story about two people falling in love with each other.’
Why am I bringing this up again?
Well, because it’ll always be relevant.
I’ve seen quite a few posts pop up on my Facebook newsfeed lately, about the MarriageEquality vote in Ireland on May 22nd. Now, I know my best friends will be voting YES, as will the rest of my friends.
I guess I’m just baffled about the fact that it’s 2015, and we’re still having to fight for the right to marry the person we love?
Countries in the world where same-sex marriage is legal.
2000 – The Netherlands
2003 – Belgium
2005 – Canada
2005 – Spain
2006 – South Africa
2009 – Sweden
2009 – Norway
2010 – Portugal
2010 – Iceland
2010 – Argentina
2012 – Denmark
2013 – Uruguay
2013 – New Zealand
2013 – France
2013 – England / Wales
2013 – Brazil
2014 – Luxembourg
2014 – Scotland
Countries where same-sex marriage is legal in some jurisdictions
2003 – United States
2009 – Mexico
There are 196 countries in the world. Same-sex marriage is only legal in 19 of them, and partly legal in 2 of them?
That is pathetic.
WHY on Earth do people who I’ve never ever met in my life, have a say in who I want to marry?
Because it’s against their values?
In Levitivus 20:13 –
“If a man lies with a male as with a woman, both of them have committed an abomination; they shall surely be put to death; their blood is upon them.”
If the Bible says it’s wrong, then it’s wrong. I mean, the Bible’s been around for 3500 years. I’ve only been around for 29 years. Why should my opinion count more than the Bible? But I’m a fair person. I have to respect your beliefs, don’t I?
Mm.. wait, wait. Can I ask you a question? If I told you that I thought that black people shouldn’t be allowed to marry outside of their race, how would that make you feel? What if I said that I thought it was wrong? That they should stick to their own kind? You’d call me a racist, wouldn’t you? You’d say that racism is wrong, and illegal. I shouldn’t say that, yeah? They’re people. They’re entitled to marry whoever they love. Yeah?
Mm… okay. I’m sorry, I’m just a little confused here. Because I’m sure that somewhere in the Bible, it said something like… yeah, here it is.
Deuteronomy 7:3 –
“You shall not intermarry with them, giving your daughters to their sons or taking their daughters for your sons.”
So… if you’re white, you can’t marry a black person. You also can’t marry an Indian person, or a Chinese person, for that matter. Because the Bible says so.
So.. how come there’s interracial couples all over the world? The President of the United State is a product of an interracial marriage. Are you going to tell him that his mother was a disgrace to her people? Would you go up to the Rock and tell him he’s an abomination because his black father fell in love with his Samoan mother? Oh.. wait. The legend that is David Bowie. Rock royalty..
Has anyone told him that his wife, Iman, is black…?
Can you detect the sarcasm in my words? Which brings me to the next verse.
Leviticus 26:27 –
“If in spite of this you still do not listen to me but continue to be hostile toward me, then in my anger I will be hostile toward you, and I myself will punish you for your since seven times over. You will eat the flesh of your sons and the flesh of your daughters.”
Oh, shit. I was kinda looking forward to bonding with my children. Now, i’ve got to eat them?
Pass the salt and pepper. Whilst I eat the flesh of my children, why don’t you read the next verse?
Deuteronomy 22:28 –
“If a man is caught in the act of raping a young woman who is not engaged, he must pay fifty pieces of silver to her father. Then he must marry the young woman because he violated her, and he will never be allowed to divorce her.”
My point is this, the Bible is out-dated. I could give you verses and verses that would affect the most obdurate heart.
Now, I have a lot of Christian friends who I think highly of, and I respect their religious beliefs. My problems isn’t with the Christians – after all, I used to be a good little Catholic girl myself.
No, my problem is with the people who look down on me when I tell them I’m a lesbian. The people who stare at me when I kiss my girlfriend in the street. The same people who say that what I feel in my heart is wrong, and use the Bible as an excuse. You cannot use the Bible as an excuse.
I like to think of myself as a Buddhist. I’m not like, a proper practising Buddhist, because.. have you met my family? There is no way you can be a member of my family and be a Buddhist. Fighting is how we communicate.
No, I jest.
Seriously though, my philosophy is this:
‘Treat others how you want to be treated.’
If you want me to treat you with respect, then please treat me with respect. If I kiss my girlfriend in the street, don’t whoop at me. Don’t ask me how I have sex with my girlfriend. Don’t tell me I haven’t met the right guy yet.
I’m not a lesbian because it didn’t work out with men – it didn’t work out with men because I’m a lesbian.
Most importantly – I cannot stress how important this is – never say that children are too young to learn about the LGBT community.
This is one of my favourite articles.
“No one is born hating another person because of the colour of his skin, or his background, or his religion. People must learn to hate and if they can learn to hate, they can be taught to love. for love comes more naturally to the human heart than its opposite.” – Nelson Mandela.