It’s wedding day!  A close member of my wife’s family is getting married today.  With all the excitement and chaos I find myself reflecting on my own wedding day(s).  I, like many in the LGBTQIA community, have two wedding days.  My wife and I celebrate the day we chose each other forever when it was not legal in the United States.  First, let me say Washington, D.C. will always be my heart’s content.  It is the place I found myself, became an adult, met my forever friendmily* (check out the new book coming out soon), met my wife, fell in love, was able to get married (domestic partnership), and have my child.  D.C., you are my home away from home and my “safe place.”  

When President Obama decided to make marriage available to all, my wife decided this was her chance to have her “dream” wedding.  If you have spoken to me on tour you will know that as a child I did not know someone like me could have a wife, a child, be married and live that life without shame, secret, or ridicule.  However, my wife believed that she could have those things especially because the President made it so, but singularly because her family instilled that in her.  What was a big win for her turned into a traumatic nightmare when a family member’s true feelings came to light.  It seems like all those positive affirmations came with the condition of if you love and marry a man then you can have all the things you want.  I will not go into further details but what I will say is queer people and trauma seem to have an inseparable relationship.  Somewhere, somehow, people who claim to love you and have your best interest at heart saturate you with their toxic bitter opinions rooted in religious dogma and personal disdain that makes you question who you are, who you love, how you love, how others love you, God, and the love God has for others and you.  This trauma can be healed, but the feelings attached to the memory may never go away. 

This feeling is what has been creeping up on me since the wedding was announced.  I feel sick for my wife (who is awesome by the way).  She honestly has been great and supportive throughout this wedding process for said family member.  I have done my spousal duty to pulse-check her emotions but she truly has left me in awe with how she is handling the situation.  I, on the other hand, have been “weighed, measured, and found wanting” in this area.  Though I am so grateful that I did not spend thousands of dollars to feed, fellowship, and fraternize with family and others who are against my relationship, I feel for my wife.  After all, she didn’t have her “dream” wedding because I am a woman. 

Now, years later, she has to stand, support, and watch the same family members who turned their backs on her stand up and cheer for another who did choose to marry a man.  The fact that she can do that with a cheerful heart and a healthy spirit tells me she is much further along in her faith and healing walk than I am (which is completely healthy and totally fine by me). 

I wrote “Ma, Where’s Mommy” for every little girl who may be queer and cannot imagine having a stable, healthy, happy family full of love, faith, laughter, respect, and commitment.  I wrote “Ma, Where’s Mommy” to show that though these unsaid family members did not want us to have a child and be a family, we; despite our family’s legal beginnings, are thriving and surviving. 

I find myself having cold feet.  Not because I am getting married but because I want to support my wife and this family member but I also want to be true to myself, our trauma, and our marriage.  It pains me that people see more value in traditional marriages than they do “non” traditional marriages.  I actually detest the term “traditional marriage” and the value it holds.  All marriages are traditional no matter who you marry, how the ceremony occurs, or who attends.  Marriages are traditional in the sense that it showcases two people who want to make a verbal commitment to each other in front of a crowd or a couple of people.  The tradition of showcasing love is all that should matter. 

Our wedding was perfect.  It was us, the officiate who will forever be etched in our hearts, and a photographer who captured every happy moment we had.  Looking back on it, I personally would not change a thing.  We were surrounded by what and who we needed to be surrounded by.  Strangers walking in the park screamed congratulations as if they had known us all along.  As I type soft tears are coming because to hear strangers root for you at a time that family wouldn’t even show up for you is God revealing himself and his Grace. 

This is why the name Grace is utilized in my stories.  Grace was given to us way before “Ma, Where’s Mommy” was an idea.  I do not know what the day will bring.  What I do know is the people who are getting married today love each other.  I am happy that I am mentally healthy enough to support, love, and fellowship with my wife’s family without falling apart.  Me acknowledging that parts of me are not alright allows me to have tough conversations with myself and my wife.  It allows us to become closer as a couple but to also hold one another up if strength quickly turns to weakness.  I am in no position to say embrace, erase, or confront any trauma that a person has experienced.  I can only say how I have found a pathway forward through loving my wife, child, and self. 

Believe that you can have all the things you desire in life.  Even if the family says they love you but cannot accept and affirm all of you.  Remember that their love and acceptance is not your issue but theirs.  Finally, recognize that Grace is for everyone and shows up when you least expect it.