An unexpected part of the drama that is my cancer life (as opposed to my real life) is the realization that I need to go through a number of legal hoops to ensure that, if necessary, J. can speak on my behalf when I can’t. For example, when I am unconscious during the upcoming surgery.

You see, although he is my life partner he has no legal right to speak for me, to be at my side during my hospital stay. We may own a house together, a dog our shared responsibility, numerous possessions, and have been together more than 6 years . . . all of that means nothing because we are not married.

So get married, some might say. Sure, I have that option because we happen to be of different genders. What about the many 1000s who are in EXACTLY the same situation but are of the same gender?

Why do I get to have a benefit that others don’t?

Marriage is many things. First and foremost, it is a declaration to one’s community that two individuals are now united, and that that unity must be respected. Secondarily it also represents a collection of shared rights and the attendant responsibilities. Lastly, and not always, it may be a religious covenant, depending on one’s beliefs.

We are a (theoretically) secular nation, according to the Constitution and the first two meanings of marriage (unity and responsibilities) are accepted and allowed, We run into trouble when we bring religion into the situation. At this time, one set of spiritual beliefs actively denies the cultural and legal rights of those who do not agree.

As a pagan, specifically a witch, there is no church for me to marry within; only a legal authority can pronounce me married. I can, of course, devise my own religious ceremony even act as my own priestess or call upon one of my friends to act as a Priest/ess in his/her own capacity. In doing so I can declare to my community that the two of us are no one. But of course, anyone can have a commitment ceremony and make this public declaration of unity.

But I’ll still get the rights and responsibilities of marriage if I get the legal pronouncement, because I am a female and my partner is male. I fail to see the legal rational for gender to come into the discussion. That’s like saying that men can’t work in nurseries because they can’t bear babies. And in this day and age it getting more absurd to base legal decisions on gender. I personally know a lovely woman who was a biological male (an Eagle Scout no less!) who married a lovely woman. Several years after their marriage, he decided he was more appropriately a SHE and underwent the full conversion, including surgery. They are still married; but they are now both female-gendered. Was the marriage nullified? At what point? Pre-surgery? Post-surgery? When she changed her name?

Is the marriage of two people who never have sex with each other,but exclusively seek sexual relationships outside the marriage, any less a legal marriage than the couple who devotedly share their lives only with one another? If a homosexual man and lesbian woman marry, is it illegal? They are male and female, after all. Or is it that such a relationship doesn’t count because marriage must be for the purpose of having children?

Is there a time limit? If no children are produced within 5 years of a marriage, should the marriage be dissolved? Life is busy, lets make it 10 years. Or do you have until the woman hits menopause? Do we need to start forbidding marriage in partners too old to have children (like the seniors who are widowed and remarry)? What if one partner is barren? If they adopt, does that count? What about artificial insemination? Because those alternatives to man-woman procreation save the sanity of many otherwise childless couples — and are just as available to same-sex couples.

Marriage is always an announcement to the community: we two are now one.

Marriage gives each person rights, and responsibilities. Denying those rights, and responsibilities, to any group — at all — is discrimination. How dare we?

Marriage may be a spiritual rite of passage, in which case that needs to be the business of the people in the marriage, and perhaps their community, or some part of it. That’s it, end of story.