Last weekend I attended some of NYC Pride festivities.

I’ve said many times, over the last few months, “If I could just be a lesbian it would be so much easier.”

I didn’t attend to check out the ladies (although lots were seriously beautiful), but to support my friends, Leigh and Jacquelyn.

A little history.

I’ve only known Jacquelyn for six months. Leigh, I’ve known for ages. I’m a dear friend of her mother. When they met (online, by the way), Leigh couldn’t wait to introduce me.

I knew after spending a little time with them that this was a different sort of relationship for Leigh. She was completely herself. I observed them working out the things that we  do in the beginning of a new coupling.

Leigh is blunt and says whatever is on her mind.

Jacquelyn is quiet and introspective.

Leigh is rather worldly. She went to boarding school in Switzerland and hopes to eventually live in Europe.

Jacquelyn grew up on a family farm in rural Vermont, just completed fours years of military service in the Navy, and has had her fill of wanderlust.

Leigh is a challenger of anything she deems unjust.

Jacquelyn just wants everyone to get along.

I recall their first disagreement. Leigh was upset that Jacqueline didn’t recognize her birthday for the Magnificent Occasion it was.

For Jacquelyn, birthdays are just another day. I do admit (forgive me, Leigh’s family), that Leigh’s clan can be a bit much. Especially, my friend, her mother.  It is no wonder that Leigh has an elevated sense of what a birthday should be–even as an adult. Her mother calls super early in the morning and says this same line for every birthday—from her first on:

“The happiest day of my life, ____ years ago today, you were born.”

Then she tells the story of Leigh’s birth—every single detail.

Can I get an eye roll here?

BUT, the two also have much in common. They are both writers. Leigh writes gritty personal essays filled with sentences so blunt they make me gulp. Jacquelyn, a poet, writes dreamy pieces filled with longing for acceptance. They are both over-the-top brainy and have the same irreverent sense of humor. It takes a Ph.D. in Obscure to understand some of the things they laugh about. They love animals and underdogs. I see their life together filled with both.

So, I met them on Sunday and walked around the festival. I met some other couples, as well.

Myrna and Delia, who’ve been together for ten years. I knew I would feel my two marriages were less valid while chatting with these two. Weirdly, it never happened.

 

Eric and Jeff, who met online three years ago. While talking to them I expected to hear the voice of God, “IT’S ADAM AND EVE, NOT ADAM AND STEVE.” But the Lord was quiet that day.

Marie and Olivia, from Montreal. They’ve been together four years but have known each other for twelve. No DOMA in Canada and we all know the global reputation of Canadians—violent and crazy sexual deviants.

Ganessan and Karl, from Australia. They can’t marry there, either. Hallelujah! There’s another country that discriminates against its citizens!

---

A very interesting man recently sent me an email message asking if I’d like to meet for coffee or a drink. The site has a section where one can answer a bunch of questions, and if the person contacting you has replied to the same ones you can see his or her answers. I loved his profile and he was quite handsome. One photo was of him standing next to a large statue of Buddha. I was excited and clicked on our matching questions.

Here’s my response to his message:

Hi Ron,

Thank you for your message. Unfortunately, we are not a match. I can say that with 100% certainty—without a cup of coffee.

One answer to one question: “Should gays be allowed to adopt?” You said, “No.”

I find it ironic that you’re standing next to a statue of Buddha in one of your photos. What would Buddha do?

Here’s the truth. My daughter is gay. That anyone would think she is less qualified to parent a child based on the way she was born and whom she loves is reprehensible. You are saying that my beautiful girl is less.

Melanie

Yes, Leigh (her middle name), is my youngest daughter.

She is not broken. I don’t need to pray the gay away. She is beautiful, loving, brave and perfect. I challenge anyone to look at this face and tell me differently.

I am sure Jacquelyn’s parents would throw down the same gauntlet.

When we remove all the bullshit–all the archaic religious nonsense–what’s left is love. Two people, free to love each other and express that love with all the same rights and responsibilities every straight citizen of the United States has. How can that be wrong?

I see my girl and her girl, dreaming about a life they’ll share, making plans. Working through their differences with the foundation always being their commitment to each other.

I can’t fathom how anyone would have a problem with that.

It is rather ironic that when they wheeled my newborn to me in the hospital (cocooned in a blanket–that shock of dark hair sticking out), I saw her first and middle name written together on the bassinet.

That will look so beautiful on her wedding invitation.

Who knew that she would grow up in a country where something as simple as that would be denied? And what about Jacquelyn? She served her country and yet is denied the same civil rights that others (who aren’t as selfless) receive.

Source: Military Times

It is a shared human need to love and be loved—what we all seek. Leigh and Jacquelyn have found it. I smile constantly when around the two of them. It is what parents wish for and a joyous thing to see. It is almost everything I’ve always dreamed of for my brilliant girl.

“Find out who you are and be that person. That’s what your soul was put on this Earth to be. Find that truth, live that truth and everything else will come.” Ellen Degeneres