My parents married when they were seventeen years old and had their first child (me) 11 months later. My sister arrived around two years after that. Life at home was tumultuous at times, but we were well cared for and loved. After my sister married and I moved out the house, my parent’s marriage quickly fell apart. In 1999, after twenty-six years of wedded misery, they were divorced.
Honey’s parents also married at a young age and had two children. His descriptions of life at home were far from pleasant, and his parents volatile marriage also came to an end after both children were grown.
I’ve been thinking about how ironic it is that even though both of the marriages that most influenced our lives were unsuccessful, we still long to give it our own shot. With all the negative examples of matrimony that one can look around and see these days, why on earth would gays and lesbians risk putting themselves through such misery?
I guess we are hard-wired from birth to seek out someone to share our lives; someone to marry and grow old with. Then life complicates matters by handing us someone of the same sex, and our dreams of marital bliss become something to be feared by the very people who nurtured this desire and usually provided such terrible examples for us to follow.