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Monday, 6 September 2010

I said “husband”

“Yes, he’s my husband”

“Ah,” I get the reply “civil partner.” (And you get bonus points if they say ‘civil partner’ in a way that implies they’re picking up their dog’s leavings or lifting something icky with tongs. Because the whole thing is sooo distasteful.)

I said husband. I didn’t say civil partner. Yes, thank you, I KNOW the law doesn’t let us marry. Shockingly I am painfully aware of the fact. I KNOW that marriage is considered too good for the likes of us. I KNOW that it’s oh-so-special and cannot possibly be allowed to be sullied by our terrible gayness. I KNOW that our love is considered inferior compared to straight love to which I must gasp in awe and bow.

I know the law. I’m a family lawyer and a gay man and in a civil partnership. I don’t need to be reminded that I have a lesser marriage. I know. Do they think I needed reminding? Were they afraid I’d forgotten?

And I called him husband, MY preferred reference, my summation for my relationship. And that couldn’t let that stand, oh no.

Did I need correcting? Am I getting above myself? Do I presume too greatly? Am I out of line? Do I need putting back in my place? Do they know better than I how to term my relationship, my loved one, my own partner?

*continues to fume*

This is not helping keep Rage Brain under control enough to address matters.