Free to be you and me—and marriage?

For single gay men — stranded in the aisle of wedded wondering — should you sit on the side of tradition or reinvention?

By J. Corbett Holmes

“Hello!”

“Are you seeing anyone?” inquired a female voice from the receiver.

“I’m seeing my reflection. I’m seeing Ben and Jerry. What’s your point?” I volleyed back.

“Well, because, I have someone I want to fix you up with. He’s very sparkly, and I think you two would really hit it off!” said my friend Jill.

“So I’m going to give him your number! OK?” she announced, as I sat dazed in thought on the other end of the phone.

“Um—OK,” I responded. Her traditional approach to finding a mate for me offered quite a contrast to my recent “rub” with gay relationships.

When I left you last month, I was contemplating whether it was better to become a mail-order bridesmaid—and just sleep with some of the open-relationship couples I’d come in contact with (liberal approach)—or fight for my equality and force their hands away from my crotch and into the hands of their other available single friends (traditional approach). What ensued was extremely thought-provoking. All of the gay male couples I talked to said, “No, we don’t do that,” when asked whether or not they fix their single friends up with each other. Most of these gay pairs were in long-term relationships (more than 10 years). Some were monogamous. Some were open. Yet none of them ever fixed up their single friends. On the other side of the debate were my female friends, who diligently used what they referred to as their “internal database” in attempts to find their unattached friends a date—hoping it would ultimately lead to a wedding date. And all of that married together left me with copious questions about gay men and the prospect of legalized marriage. And so, to better understand my marital options, I sought counsel from everyone—gay, straight, male, female, married, single, committed and open.

As a single gay man—amid all the gathering of data—I became stranded in the aisle of wedded wondering, confused whether to sit on the side of tradition or reinvention when it came to matrimony.

While I was busy donning my gay apparel, I began to consider what lay before me: my further ascent into middle-age, my hopes for a husband waiting to alter my existence, my dreams of social equality and various forms of freedom—should I ever actually be allowed to marry. Then I began to consider what would be seated on either side of me as I marched down the aisle of “I dos” and “I don’ts.”

On the right side sat my traditional values—the members of my family that might be embarrassed by the ceremony, the president’s posse and their concerns that, as a fag, I would “weaken the values of matrimony.” Next to them was an existing template that has proven (with the empowerment of women) to show a less than successful appearance. And seated towards the back, dressed in a new form, were repression and regulation, sitting proudly on either side of monogamy.

And then I took a look to my left where my more liberal thoughts sat among a history rich with redefinition and challenges against the template of “normal.” Beside them sat my favorite guests—my revolutionary gay forefathers who fought for reinvention, not convention. Next to them were the “to have and to holds”—who would surely grab at my crotch as I marched by. And next to them was greater social acceptance—(who seems to be gaining weight). And I’d invited the same-sex Social Security set, but they hadn’t arrived yet! Hopefully they would help with any taxing situations.

Too much to think about! My head became stuffy—my bridal bouquet was giving me gay hay-fever. I became afraid that while trying to tie the perfect knot, that I might hang myself, and end up with a wedding not! So I decided to focus on getting ready. Then, I went to my proverbial “closet” and threw it wide open in search of something old, something new, something borrowed, and well … something Jew!

The something old included my thoughts: my religious upbringing, the state of church, the history of why marriage came about, self-hatred and an unspoken acceptance of second-class citizenship. The something new involved two guys I barely knew, whom I met at a party. They had been together for years, and while deep into the discussion of marriage, men and fix-ups, one of them pulled it out—his phone. “What are you doing Friday night?” he asked. The next thing I knew, I was out to dinner with a table of men I’d never met and a blind date. The open forum made for a wonderful new experience, but the most interesting part came when I asked, “So why have you decided to fix us up? You barely know me.” He replied, “Because within the same week, you both (his friend—my fix up) asked the same question!” Something borrowed were the quotes from those I interviewed, interrogated and attempted to coerce into matchmaker mode. Here are a few of my favorites:

“Gay men who are in an open relationship are just selfish!”

“Men are men, gay or straight, and we’re just more sexual beings.”

“Be careful what you ask for. A divorce can be a messy, horrible thing!”

“Our open relationship takes the pressure off of me. I don’t have to worry that I need to be everything for him.”

And, something Jew came from the aforementioned “fix-up” by my friend Jill—as part of something called a shidach—which means a match or date that hopefully leads to marriage. Enter her fix-up. In the Jewish tradition, it’s a mitzvah (good deed) to help make a successful match and that if you manage to match up three couples that marry, you will then secure a spot in heaven.

While I continued to get ready for (the possibility) of my long march down the aisle of “I dos” or “I don’ts,” I continued to petition my paired friends for assistance in securing a spouse. And, just in case, I also began to reflect on my wedding vows. I thought about publicly making committed promises to someone I loved. And, since I’m still single, I vowed to make my own “commitment”—to myself and my community. It went something like this: Gay man, single or joined, traditional or in an open-relationship … I, J. C. Holmes give you this thing—it’s called choices. Share it with love and joy. I choose you to be my husbands, to have and to hold from this day (or night) forward, for better or for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish as long as we both shall live! Why? Because we all have choices. But even if, like me, you’re still deciding which ones to make, remember every choice requires a commitment, and every commitment has its consequences! Now you may kiss the groom, but hurry up before I change my mind!

For your shaving graces e-mail me at shavingsfrommyhead@yahoo.com.