I was going to try to stay away from the topic of sexual orientation for a while so as not to alienate my hordes of straight readers, but I am sitting in a coffee shop in the San Diego gayborhood watching a happy crowd of triumphant homos, and as is the case with my gayness itself, I simply can’t help myself.  This impromptu pride parade is in celebration of today’s court decision to overturn Prop 8, a measure that reaffirmed the proper definition of marriage for these pesky California queers back in 2008.  From what I can remember, the definition goes something like, “Marriage, queers, is between a man and a woman, even if they are considerably less compatible and attractive than you and your same-sex partner. ”

I am overcome with a variety of emotions as I watch this mass of proud couples, equality stickers, “I Do!” posters and explosion of rainbow paraphernalia.  Naturally the most overwhelming emotions are of hope, happiness, brotherhood…all those fuzzy feelings one experiences when equality bitch-slaps a Hitler-Mussolini-reminiscent combination of ignorance and hatred in its fugly face.

However, I also have this nagging feeling of guilt…guilt that I’ve done absolutely nothing whatsoever to help contribute to the success of this movement.  I have not passed out flyers, harassed my fellow citizens to sign petitions, refused to move from courthouse steps, or even slept with a single conservative politician’s daughter (that I know of).  Frankly, my attitude toward the cause since Prop 8 passed has been general irritation about the frequency of its email newsletters.  I was in northern California the weekend of San Francisco Pride – a sort of national holiday for my people – and when my mother asked if I wanted to go to the parade, I believe my exact response was, “Meh.” We ended up watching the taped broadcast on TV, but really I would have been just as happy watching Seinfeld reruns.

And today, on another family holiday of sorts, I am again a passive witness to the celebration. I can feel the force of the energy and optimism of the people outside, and part of me really wants to join them, but I already have this whole cup of overpriced coffee, so I guess I’ll just stay here.

What the fuck is wrong with me?!  How am I so apathetic about something that is so totally unjust and affects me so directly?  How can I be okay with letting other people fight this battle for me?

I am not an individual who has trouble committing to something I care about. If I spent as much time promoting equality as I do discussing rugby, training for rugby, traveling for rugby, and generally tying most of my social events, money and dreams to rugby, maybe I’d be a person able to marry in California today instead of a national champion.

The thing is, to me, it’s so much cooler to be a national champion than to be married or gay!  I watch my fellow gays pass by and I feel united with them in our happiness about the ruling, but I still feel a disconnect not unlike the one I experience when I go to gay bars rife with hipster dykes rocking reverse mullets and skinny jeans; having sexual preference in common is not necessarily enough to ensure a good conversation over a beer.

I think my reluctance to get involved is rooted in the bitterness I feel about having to fight to essentially….be myself…in the first place. It’s not like I’m trying to pass a financial measure that will my provide my business with tax relief, or pushing a zoning law to keep poor people out of my neighborhood; I’m just asking that the opinion of some douche bag in Orange County not be a factor when determining the validity of my love or the legal status of my union.  If the gays are victorious at the end of this battle, we won’t be reveling in something new that we’ve created or an advantage we’ve achieved as a group; we’ll be rejoicing in the fact that we now have access to an establishment that heterosexual Americans already enjoy.  That’s like bragging about getting internet access.

I should be able to take marriage for granted like the rest of America. I should be able to enter into this holiest of unions on an irrational whim, or because I want to be the center of attention at a big party, or even because I am deeply in love with someone and would like to spend the rest of my life with them…or because I got someone pregnant. (I’ll keep trying; the second coming of Christ is something that may even change the minds of our most vehement religious opponents.)

I should be able to take marriage for granted and spend every ounce of my energy defending something that interests me far more than my orientation, like a national championship.  Instead, I’m putting energy into feeling guilty about not being a team player – about not putting one of my many biological characteristics on a sign with the hopes that one day, I might be considered just as human in spite of it.

Thanks to everyone who fought on my behalf.  I really do appreciate it.  Sorry to rain on our parade.

My Most Notable Contribution to the Movement