Gay marriage is gay marriage

In the not so distant past, say 60 years ago, the phrase "gay marriage" would have invoked a mental image of a happy (gay), young white heterosexual couple. Homosexuals, as a group, didn't really exist in the collective mainstream American mind until the Stonewall riot in 1969.

On June 28, 1969, New York City police raided a popular gay bar, Stonewall Inn in Greenwich Village. At the time, cops were targeting gay bars as a means of "cleaning up" the city. Fueled in part by the raging fire of social justice movements in the 60's and also by the sheer exhaustion that accompanies unequal treatment, patrons of Stonewall Inn refused to be loaded into paddy wagons. This refusal lit a spark in the predominantly gay neighborhood, and resulted in riots that lasted six days--and brought the topic of gay rights into the forefront of American awareness.

Forty-four years later, my home state of Minnesota has finalized crossed what may be the final frontier in marriage equality when the legislature approved legislation to provide for the recognition of gay marriage. In becoming just the twelfth state to do so, Minnesota has reasserted its place in the nation as a progressive, forward-leaning place.

Just as many in my generation can't imagine why gay marriage is such an issue, many in my parents' generation couldn't conceptualize any problem with interracial marriage. But much like the current marriage equality movement for same-sex couples, interracial marriage faced the same road blocks known to gays today, including attempts to amend the nation's Constitution to exclude interracial marriage.

Instead, the US Supreme Court used the Constitution to provide for the legal basis for marriage expansion. In a 1964 decision on McLaughlin v Florida, the Supremes recognized that the 14th Amendment's guarantee of equal protection under the law applied to the state's laws governing cohabitation--thus overturning Florida's exclusionary statute and setting the stage for the 1967 decision in Loving v Virginia, which fully legalized interracial marriage.

My hope is that the current Court is as equitable as the Warren court was.  As the nation awaits a decision on California's exclusionary Proposition 8 and on a separate case regarding the federal Defense of Marriage Act (DOMA), many of our fellow American's well-being remains on the line.  Marriage isn't just about the fulfillment of love; it is imbued with legal rights that most of us take for granted--rights such as the estate tax shelter, transfer of retirement benefits of a deceased partner, and family medical leave time from work to care for a spouse. Imagine if your loving partner was seriously ill, and your employer was well within his federally protected right to deny you the time away from work to provide care?

Our gay brothers and sisters deserve the chance to fulfill their lives in the same ways as the rest of us. This isn't about protecting the "sanctity of marriage" because the law doesn't recognize holiness under our belief of the separation of church and state. Nor does "sanctity" apply under its secondary meaning of inviolability--laws in every state provide for divorce. I can think of no reasonable or logical argument to exclude two loving, consensual people from the issuance of a governmentally-recognized marriage license that affords the opportunity to the legal protections provided by state and federal government.

Our Constitution and its attendant Bill of Rights are precious and central to our belief system as Americans. They make this country great. In the moral turmoil that followed the Civil War, our forefathers sought to clarify and improve the intentions of the founders by adding the 14th Amendment:

No state shall make or enforce any law which shall abridge the privileges or immunities of citizens of the United States...nor deny to any person within its jurisdiction the equal protection of the laws.

This is strong, clear language that invites us toward inclusiveness, rather than division. It was true then regarding the abolishment of slavery; true for the women's suffrage movement at the turn of the 20th century; true for integrating public education in 1954; and it remains true today for same-sex couples.

Love Thyself

As we all know, a key part of dating is about attractiveness.  How we feel about ourselves and our bodies, the confidence we draw (or don't draw) from how we appear, and what we think our partners are looking for all impacts our relationships.  I am inviting you to an honest conversation on body image...and I'll even go first.

Like most women, I struggle with how I look.  I am constantly judging myself: sneaking glimpses in window reflections, measuring myself against women on television, and spending excess time in the bathroom examining my pores.  I have a ballerina's build that has stuck with me even though I haven't danced since I was in college: a small bustline and muscular legs that NEVER fit quite right into skinny jeans.  My figure is boyishly straight.  I have hazel-green eyes, pale skin, and dark chocolate brown hair.  I'm an all-American mutt--a true mix of western European ancestry with no distinguishing characteristics.  

By contrast, my best friend is curvy in all the right places.  She's about 5'6" tall, with a perfect hourglass figure and thin legs.  Her American Indian heritage is beautifully captured in her long black hair, soft olive skin, and deep brown eyes.  Without a doubt, she is exotic.

In spite of this, I can easily remember a dozen times in the last few months when we would trash ourselves and complain about various aspects of our bodies.  We're constantly "on a diet"--a condition shared by a majority of women.  One British study found that women spend 31 years of their lives on a diet, compared to 28 years for men.  Each diet lasted just five and a half weeks.  

While I'm not advocating we just abandon trying to get healthy, I do have to wonder if all this "dieting" is good for us--physically and emotionally?  

I was watching tv this morning and it seemed like every other commercial was an advertisement for a health-related product: probiotics, weight-loss supplements, cleanses...the list goes on.  While I conscientiously avoid fashion magazines to avoid feeling like I have to compare myself to waif-thin models, I feel barraged by the media and ad moguls reminding me about diets.  Am I supposed to be on a diet? I wonder anxiously.  Am I healthy enough?  Maybe I can diet away these tree-trunk legs...

The truth is, my weight is fine.  My body mass index is fine.  I could tone up a little more, but the reality is that most of us fall into that category.  The bottom line is that we are exposed to this culture of dieting not only because America, in general terms, has an obesity problem, but also because there's considerable money to be made from it.  Did you know that Americans spend $40 million each year on diet-related products?  And yet the obesity rate has been climbing steadily since the mid-1980's.  On the other end of the spectrum, an estimated 8 million Americans suffer from an eating disorder, with almost 90% of them women.  Treatment for eating disorders can range from $500-$2000 per day.  What if we saved our dollars...and just stopped the war on our bodies and self-esteem?

And why do we try so hard to be so thin?  Arguably, it's not as much for the health of our bodies as it is an attempt to find social acceptance, especially from the opposite sex.  Women truly believe that men are more attracted to very thin women.

To that end, an article in Psychology Today magazine presents a compelling discussion on what men actually find attractive.  According to the piece, co-written by two medical doctors who have studied why women need body fat, men actually don't find ultra-thin women more attractive.  They cite the fact that the average Playboy model is 5'6" and 115 pounds, with a BMI between 18-19.  While that may seem light, compare it to the average fashion model that has a BMI of 17.1, while almost half of all models have a BMI under 17--grossly underweight according to the Centers for Disease Control.  If men were attracted to extremely thin women, wouldn't Playboy magazine capitalize on that?

Dove Beauty Campaign recently published a video wherein seven women described themselves to FBI sketch artist Gil Zamora.  A second sketch was then compiled by the sketch artist, but this time as described by a stranger who had spent time earlier in the day with the women.  The two sketches produced marked differences and underscored the point that, as Dove says, "you're more beautiful than you think."  Watch the video here.

So the next time you're standing in front of the bathroom mirror practicing sucking in your stomach (c'mon, I'm not the only one who does that!)...maybe just cut yourself a small break.  Just once.  And then think about how much better it feels to love yourself than to hate some perceived "flaws."  Because what you think might not be the way others see you.  Only 4% of women in this world consider themselves beautiful.  I personally KNOW that more than 4% of the people that I see are beautiful.  

Including you.

feedback always welcome!

leahc168@gmail.com

Invasive Species

Last night was ladies' night out.  You know the kind: we get all dolled up in too much makeup and too high of heels to head out on the town to taunt men, with the rule being that we all leave the bar together.  Always a good time...unless you're a guy trying to break into that circle....sorry, guys...

Around midnight, we descended on a St. Paul hot spot called Wild Onion.  As the girls headed out to the dance floor, I hung back to survey the crowd.  Within two minutes, the Creepazoid was at my side.

"Hi!  I'm Eric." (Or is it Erik? Or Erick? Erich?  I didn't ask.)

I stared blankly at him.  Who was this creature?  Was I in a 1996 time-warp?  He wore a plain blue v-neck t-shirt that was two sizes too small, a heavy silver chain necklace, and gel-spiked hair.  

"I love Spice Girls!  Let's go dance!" he yelled in my ear.  What guy says that?!  For that matter, what girl in a post-Y2K world would say that?!  It should also be noted that he was quick to tell me that he was sober--doesn't drink--and that he was there alone.  Red flag!  Red flag!

Before I knew it, I was on the dance floor, trying mightily to keep a healthy distance between me and the Creepazoid.  I quickly located my gal pals and gave them the pleading "help-me-out-here" eyes.  They laughed at my misfortune and we tried to make our escape from the him.

Unfortunately, it wasn't that easy.  When we found a table to sit at, he squeezed right in next to me in the booth. He was not to be deterred by our girl talk or blatant texting to each other about his obnoxious behavior. To quote Vince Vaughn's character in "Wedding Crashers"...we had a Stage Five Clinger.  As other guys came up to try to talk to us, he brushed them off and whispered to me that they were "number two" to him.  To say I was horrified is to put it mildly. 

Anyone who knows me at all knows that I HATE being a possession.  Being owned.  Being caged.  It makes my innards queasy.  And it made me think: what is the right amount of "possession" in a relationship?  Where do we draw the line between "we" and "I"?

Earlier in the day yesterday, I had coffee with a dear friend who is in the beginning stages of divorce.  As we talked about our failed marriages, we found that we had both struggled with how much of ourselves to turn over to our partners.  At the beginning my marriage, I neglected my friends and my personal needs in order to be with him, (wrongly) thinking that doing so would make our relationship stronger.  But instead, I lost sight of who I was and what I needed, which was a contributing factor to the failure of the marriage.  

An article in Psychology Today discusses this very issue, and urges partners to find ways to communicate regarding personal space needs.  Failure to communicate the needs can foster a breeding ground for "negative feelings: rejection, insecurity, jealousy, mistrust, and resentment."  When one partner moves away without telling the other what (s)he's up to, even when the motives are pure, it can cause a rift in the relationship.  Talking about space needs before it becomes an issue can head off a potential storm.

"Space" is a multi-faceted thing--it comes in many forms.  There's emotional space, physical space, and even spiritual space.  A failure to provide enough room in one of these areas will likely result in the partner taking space in another form.  Dr Vondie Lozano, a California marriage and family therapist, stated in a Wall Street Journal piece on relationships that "if you don't give them their physical space, they will take emotional space."  

But when we do give our partners what they need, our relationship is much more likely to thrive.  In romantic relationships, we seek to give comfort and increase happiness for the person that we're with.  That may come in the form of a good meal, a sweet note, or a thoughtful gift.  What if the best gift you can give your partner is the gift of personal space?  

Don't make your partner resort to this:

As always...feedback welcome!

leahc168@gmail.com

The State of our Family State

American marriages are in crisis.  And no, I don't mean because of gays.  Hell, if gays want in on this broken institution, they should be more than welcome to it.  If "Queer Eye for the Straight Guy" is any indicator, maybe gay marriage could even improve things!

But I digress.  Back to boring old heterosexual marriage.  The "traditional" kind--a dad, mom, two kids, a dog, an SUV, and a sprawling suburban home.

Once upon a time, I had all that.   We were living the American dream...but it was a nightmare.  He worked a lot to make sure we could afford it all and I was over-stressed between upstarting a career and primary responsibility for the kids, who were both under age 5.  Daycare expenses were eating us alive (as they are for a majority of Americans, especially in our area), home ownership was a chore, and our jobs had us working opposite shifts.  We spent very little time together as a couple.

Not surprisingly, the bubble burst and we divorced before our tenth wedding anniversary.  While the reasons for our divorce are far more complex than I will outline here, suffice to say that the circumstances outlined above were all contributing factors to our failure.

And we're not alone.  In fact, a plurality of marriages in the United States these days are like ours was: stressed over money, work, and children.  Despite societal and technological advances that allow us to work from home, wash clothes in half the time that our grandparents did, and prepare pre-cooked food in microwaves, Americans still report being unhappy.  Why?

A major reason can be found in the way we spend our time.  A longitudinal study over four decades by three sociologists from University of Maryland (College Park) found that my generation's mothers report spending more time providing structured parenting than our moms did--this, in spite of increased hours spent outside the home working.  The trade-off?  Leisure time and interpersonal relationships such as spouses and friends. In order to achieve that "perfect" work-life balance, in other words, women are foregoing their own needs (and the needs of extended family, friends, and husbands) in favor of work and child-rearing.

Why does it take so much more time to be a parent in the 21st century?  One reason lies in the rise of "helicopter parenting" so called for its comparison to hovering, in this case over children.  It requires a great deal of time and energy to hover over a child's homework, TV selections, internet time, sports, and personal lives.  Bear in mind that helicopter parenting goes beyond normal levels of childcare: in its extreme, it's found in parents who do their children's homework, call their college students to remind them to get up for class each day, or berate a coach for not selecting their child for the varsity team.  As sociology professor Margaret K. Nelson of Middlebury College writes in a Washington Post opinion piece, this style of parenting is "is not just exhaustive; it sounds exhausting."  She continues: "Working a demanding job while paying painstaking attention to one's children leaves little time for maintaining a marriage."

But this rise in Intense Parenting also gives a socially-acceptable excuse to couples who may want to get divorced but remain married, for any number of real reasons.  "We're staying together for the kids," I hear over and over again.  After all, who could argue with a parent who chooses their children's well-being over their own happiness?  As if I could say to them, "Awww...to heck with the kids!  What about YOU?"  I'm pretty sure that response would be unappreciated.

Unfortunately for those unhappy couples that employ this reasoning, social science research has posted results to the contrary: unhappy parents do not raise happy children.  In fact, one study of 1400 families found that over 75% of the children of divorced parents were just as well-adjusted as their counterparts from non-divorced parents.  The author of this study, E. Mavis Hetherington, a developmental psychologist, notes that it is "very bad" for children "if [they] are in marriages with parents who are contemptuous of each other, not even with overt conflict, but just sneering and subtle putdowns that erode the partner's self-esteem."

So while divorce should be the last resort for a couple, those of us that have experienced it and worry about our children's well-being can perhaps find a bit of peace of mind in Dr. Hetherington's research.  The "staying for the kids"-mentality can actually have a less positive outcome than we once believed.  It's important to note, however, that well-adjusted post-divorce children don't just happen.  When we divorce, we owe it to our kids to ensure that they have the emotional and psychological tools to handle this major life disruption.  But the act of the divorce alone does not have an innate ability to ruin the lives of children.


Families are complex creations, but that is what makes them beautiful.  Love exists in all familial forms: single parents, married parents, gay parents, childless couples.  Far be it from any one of us to judge another's choices or lifestyle; rather, we can only do our best to extend a helping hand when one is needed. 

A family isn't the presence or absence of a partner, children, a pet, a car, or any tangible item.  A family is defined by love.

As always:

Thoughts/comments/ideas/rebuttal welcome: leahc168@gmail.com

Spring Clean Your Heart

Spring has sprung!!  .....Or so I'm told, from people who have been to warmer parts of the United States.  Here in the Midwest, it's been lingering at a bone-chilling 40 degrees, although I will say that the sun is stronger and stays out longer.  Still, I'm ready for green grass and daffodils.

There are lots of reasons to love springtime, not the least of which is that glorious day of the year when you can pack up the parkas, clean the house, and throw the window open to let clean, fresh air in.  As we transition from dark winter to bright summer, we look at all aspects of our lives to ready ourselves for the new season.  Diets clean up as we get ourselves beach-body ready, calendars lighten up as we make time for gardening and lawn care, and we reconnect with neighbors not seen since before the first snowfall.

As I was cleaning out my kids' room today, I got to thinking that this ritualistic seasonal activity should apply to more than just our diets, calendars, and closets.  What about our hearts?  What are we doing to prep the field so that love can grow?

I spent my 20's living in a small town in western Wisconsin.  Every spring, I saw the farm fields that surrounded our community turn from dusty, dry brown to rich, dark black after the farmers turned the soil to prepare for planting.  The seeds, laid in neat rows for miles on end, held so much hope for the future.  The right summertime conditions of warmth, rain, and nourishment yielded a bountiful fall harvest.  If the soil was bad or the rain didn't come, the seeds were stunted or perhaps failed to sprout at all.

Like those acres and acres of Wisconsin farmland, our hearts are the fertile soil in which we must sow seeds of love.  If the space in our heart is tainted with fear, hurt, sorrow, or impatience, the seeds have no chance of growing.  They will die without ever having seen sunlight.  But if we offer our hearts a bit of peace and provide room for knowledge and growth, our seeds have a much better chance of realizing themselves.

As there were varieties of crops on those vast Wisconsin fields, there are varieties of love as well.  If we plant romantic love and have not seeds of self-love already in the ground, romantic love will surely result in failure.  Promises made to a partner are meaningless if we fail to know what lies within our souls.  Discovering the habits of our hearts are the very key to unlocking our ability to fully experience love.  If we don't know ourselves, we will never have the capacity to understand another person.

So ask yourself a few questions as you ready your heart to find love, keep love, or expand the love you already have.  Turn these thoughts over in your head, as a farmer turns his fields:

• What circumstances do I need in order to be happy?  
• In what activities do I find joy?
• What can I offer to my partner?
• Am I communicating effectively?  Does my partner know these things about me?

Answering these questions will be like pouring sunlight on your heart.

Brave Heart

THEN:
Setting: Oak Grove Intermediate School lunchroom, Fall 1990 (6th grade)

Me (peering anxiously across the lunchroom at a boy): Oh my gosh.  Are you sure he got the note?
My BFF (exasperated): Yes.  He got the note that you wrote.  I gave it right to him.
Me: Well, did he read it?
BFF: I don't know!  You really like him, don't you??  (sing-song)  Leah and Jimmy*, sitting in a tree...
Me:  Shut up!

I'll save you from the ugly, nit-picky details of the rest of the tragedy and cut right to the end:  No, Jimmy didn't like me.  He never responded to my note asking him if he liked me.  It turns out, 20 years later, that he's gay.  I guess I can pick 'em, right!?!

*not his real name (duh!)

PRESENT DAY:
Setting: Diamond Path Elementary School hallway, Spring 2013

Me (peering anxiously across the hall at a boy): Maybe I should just ask him out.
BFF (via text message): Yes, you should.  Put an end to this already!
Me: But what if he has a girlfriend? 
BFF: Then at least you'll know!

Luckily for me, this one turned out a lot better than my 6th grade foray into asking boys out.  This time, he said yes!  He's not gay, nor does he have a girlfriend.  He's tall, well-built, and has sparkly blue eyes that dance when he laughs.  We met for coffee a few days later, then he took me out on a "real" date the next week.  That night, he arrived at my door step in a starched, pressed shirt, with three roses for me in his hand, and a shy, sweet, boyish smile on his face.  I think I picked a good one!  (For the record, my mother was horrified at my blatant disregard for The Rules!)

We both have every reason to be afraid.  As divorced parents, we each have had our share of past failed relationships, and we have so much to protect now--not the least of which is our kids....or our hearts.

But love is about taking chances.  Indeed, relationships in general, whether they be platonic, familial, or romantic, require a great deal of risk. The issue, then, is determining whether love is an all-out gamble or a calculated risk.

Most of us (some studies suggest up to 80% of people) are unreasonably optimistic about our own futures, even when we have no reason to be and evidence presented would indicate the opposite.  We fully believe that statistics don't affect us--that we won't become victims of cancer, bankruptcy, or crime.  For this reason, we eat junk food, spend foolishly, or leave our cars unlocked with keys in the ignition.  Our frontal lobes underestimate these sorts of risks as so to decrease stress and anxiety.

But when it comes to love, we hesitate.  We sit back, trying to gauge the temperature by merely peering out the window.  We see partly cloudy weather, rather than a mostly sunny sky, and decide it's better to stay indoors.  Why are we willing to put our cars at risk for theft, but not to take a chance and ask someone out on a date? 

I contend that a great deal of the answer lies in courage.  How willing are you to roll the dice and accept the outcome, even if it's snake eyes?  What if I would've asked out the guy at my kids' school and it turned out that he declined because he had a girlfriend?  At least then I would know.  And knowing provides a sense of relief and calm.  There's a reason why people say that knowledge is power--the power to make myself happy.

And just as it takes a great deal of courage to get into a relationship, it requires the same amount to get out of one.  I have a few friends right now that are contemplating divorce or break-up...and they are merely sitting next to the window, trying to decide if conditions are right by seeing only what's on the other side of a 9 square-foot piece of glass.  This is not to suggest that they're not doing a legitimate cost-benefit analysis; rather, it is to say that the analysis is done and while they know that they're not in the right place, they're afraid to make a move that, ultimately, appears to be in everyone's best interest.

I was scared to death to broach the topic of divorce with my spouse.  Knowing it would forever alter us and our children, I labored over the decision for months on end.  But once decided, I gathered my courage and talked to him...and a weight was lifted off my heart.

Whether it be asking someone out, treating someone right, or moving on...there can be no shortage of bravery in our hearts.  Have the courage to try for happiness.

Thin Line Between Love & Hate

This morning, when I awoke at the grand hour of 10:00 am, I did my usual roll-over-and-grab-my-phone wakeup ritual.  (How many of us do this?  I wonder if I had a real person in bed next to me, would I still sleep with my phone?  Another topic for another time...)  As I triaged messages, quickly skimming and deciding what needed my immediate attention, a message from my girlfriend caught my eye: she needed to cancel our dinner plans.  I read on: she described her rather contentious divorce proceedings and how her ex was documenting all her time away from their kids, so we would have to delay our dinner so that she could be home with her babies.  Completely understandable, although sad that her ex felt this was necessary.

Message 2 was from another friend who is going through divorce.  He relayed to me that he had put his Facebook settings on super-lockdown because he felt his ex would use information against him in their divorce proceedings.  

The combination of the two messages got my thinking: how do we move from lovers to fighters in our marriages?  Is it an inevitable evolution--part of the separation process?

Many years ago, I married the man who I called my best friend.  We knew all of each other's secrets, insecurities, quirks.  The formative year(s) of the relationship were spent getting to know these things about each other and learning to love one another's flaws.  With time, however, we stopped being each other's confidante.  Kids, work, and other demands slowly took over the time we used to spend laughing and sharing.  As we drifted apart, it became apparent that the marriage had run its course and we ultimately agreed to split.  Just as quickly as we fell in love, we became enemies: judging each other's every movement, looking for motive, and distrustful of the person with whom we had once shared everything.  Best friends to total strangers in mere months.

And our situation is not unique.  While statistics about divorce abound (which party made the initial filing, how many go to trial, divorce by race, religion, etc), it is difficult to find good data on the subjective topic of contentiousness during the process.  In the United States, the vast majority of divorces (>95%) are resolved without a courtroom trial.  Still, that speaks nothing of the highly charged emotional state of both parties while they part ways--and part children, homes, cars, and bank accounts.  The fights, the testy exchanges, the snide remarks...who measures that?  And yet, just about everyone I know who is divorced has experienced it.

More importantly....can we move from fighters to peacemakers after the dust has settled?  How authentic can a friendship become when we're on the other side of a nasty split?

Ultimately, during a bad divorce, trust between parties gets broken.  In the situation of my guy friend who put his Facebook on ultra-private, he clearly doesn't trust his (ex-)wife not to misuse information.  My ex took it a step further and actually blocked me on Facebook, preventing me from seeing anything he does on the website--a setting that remains today, three years after our split.  Re-establishing trust, even to the small amount needed for a basic, no-frills friendship, requires a demonstrated change of behavior coupled with an honest discussion of what went wrong.  We have yet to let our walls down enough to move forward in that direction.  Instead, we make small talk at our kids' events and during hand-offs of the children, while steadfastly refusing to allow any real emotion or discussion to enter the space between us.  It's all very Minnesota Nice.

Is that what we've been reduced to?  The best friend I married ten years ago has now become a near-stranger in our post-divorce world.  Is there a happy middle ground?

Yes.

Because the greatest thing about people is our ability to change.