Despite a messy house, a number of projects I should be working on, and a few other things.
I wanted to be there, because the SCOTUS ruling is a very big deal. I broke out the bottle of champagne we’d been saving since before Christmas on Saturday night, to toast it, along with my Dad’s eighty-seventh birthday.
I whole-heartedly support marriage equality, and really, it was about time. If you had asked me ten years ago, I would have told you that I wasn’t going to see equal marriage in all fifty states during my lifetime. Even five years ago I might have told you that.
This is a huge victory for equal rights. It is very much a triumph of love.
As I’ve blogged before, I am a Christian, and have been one for many years. I am from a fairly liberal tradition, but I dress very modestly, for a number of reasons.
Last time I went to Pride, I felt a little self-conscious. So I thought about putting on pants, so as not to stand out.
“Wear what you’re comfortable in,” my sister said. “Do you want to wear pants?”
“No, I’m not comfortable in pants. I’m much more comfortable in a skirt.”
So instead of an outfit that I’m marginally okay in public in, I put on a long cotton skirt with a slip for opacity, and a t-shirt with a modest neckline and embroidered fishies on it. And felt every bit as much myself as I hope the long-haired and bearded man next to us in red lipstick and a black and gold caftan felt like him, her, or ey-self.
Because, at the core of it, I think that’s what Pride is about. Being able to live like yourself, and love, without fear or shame or apology.
The joy I felt yesterday, or on Friday when I read the good news on my Facebook feed isn’t entirely unmixed, because I keep wishing this had happened five or ten or twenty or even fifty years ago. That it had never been a big deal. That the lack of this kind of equality under law had never led to so much injustice. That no one had ever had to suppress who they were because they wanted marriage and family. That…