There are many things that bother me about modern society. The way the city never sleeps, the undying craze for technology, evident obsessions with one self and so on. But as everything else in the world continues to gain momentum and take off like a pubescent teen in his newly purchased Commodore, one thing lies stagnant. And this annoys me the most. Gay marriage.

10614350_10153174060219628_159593350573737913_nThis rant comes equipped with little first hand knowledge of the struggles the gay community faces. I’m not gay, I’ve never been discriminated upon on the basis of my sexual orientation and until a few years ago no one close to me was gay either. But nowadays, the branch hasn’t fallen too far from the tree and gay marriage hits a little closer to home. My brother is gay. He’s 25, is an extremely successful Journalist in Sydney, has a loving partner and is getting married in three weeks time.

So grab a coffee (wine if you’d prefer; I’m not here to judge you on the fact it’s only 9am), get some snacks, take a seat and listen up. Let’s talk gay marriage.

When I think back to my fourteen year old self I think bad hairdos; hair sprouting in obscene places; dodgy taste in music, and marinating myself in an insulting amount of cheap Brittany Spear’s perfume. I think of an attitude fiercer than Beyonce, a potty mouth, many sporting commitments, all while hoping the holidays would hurry up. But as a fourteen year old, I also remember my stance on gay marriage. The opinion I garnered from television and magazines, and the people I held closest to me. Gay marriage was wrong. It was gross. And in all circumstances totally unnecessary.

But just like a clip up the ear hole from swearing in front of your grandma, the day my brother came out was the biggest wake up call I’ve had to this day. Nervously watching every word he spoke he gained the courage to unveil his true identity to the people that he cherished the most.

“Lace, we need to chat,” my brother said as I rocked on home from school one afternoon. My sisters’ eyes were sunken and red, and I could sense straight away I was in for some kind of rude awakening. “I’m all ears,” I said as I sat down. “Tell me anything you want. Just don’t tell me you’re gay.”

Looking back on it, I’ve never been so ashamed of something I’ve said. How inconsiderate, insensitive and heartless of me. “I am,” is all I remember him saying. After that I thought I’d probably drown in my own tears and almost patted myself on the back for comfort. I felt sorry for myself. Selfish right?! I know, but forgive me when I say I’m not totally to blame.

As a tween and on the brink of a child and a teen, I was fearful of many things (apparently getting sent to the Principal’s office wasn’t one of them). I was scared of the nasty remarks my brother would have said about him, the way people would treat him, and the way that people would treat me and my family.

In the 2011 census there were around 33,700 same sex couples in Australia (bravo to them, I hope you have a fulfilling relationship). I find it totally contradictory that the government can recognise their relationship when it comes to superannuation, taxes, inheritance and Centrelink; but not beyond that. If they are willing to give the nod of approval when it comes to dishing out some extra coin, why the hell can’t they have a piece of paper certifying their marriage?

There is not enough blank space on this earth for one to deliver an entire debate on the need for same sex marriage. A few years ago I never would have thought I’d be sitting here advocating gay marriage. But as my brothers wedding draws closer and I consider the piece of paper that they’ll have in recognition of their love over what I will have when I come to getting married, I get arched up. Pissed off. Annoyed. Angry. And insulted.

Since 2009 when my brother first came out to me, the stigma on same sex couples has revolutionised. It’s almost done a whole one hundred and eighty degree turn around. People are more accepting of their love and where I would have been embarrassed to confess my brother was gay in the past, I now do it freely. And believe me when I say I jokingly take the crap out of him all the time. It’s not a topic where my family and I tip toe around and walk on egg shells.

Listen to me. Clear the wax out of them ears, sit still and just take in what I’m saying. No one is trying to force nothing down your throats. They aren’t asking YOU to make out with someone of your same sex, and hell, they aren’t asking YOU to unwillingly cut off a limb. I’m by no means a prude but kissing, snogging and other sexual gestures should be kept to the confines of your room in all situations, so that is a lame excuse for not allowing it.

I too was trapped in the idea that marriage should remain between a man and a woman. Even if you are the most conservative person to walk the earth, take a few minutes to reassess your stance if your son/daughter/aunty/friend/father or someone you love was affected by the current gay marriage laws. Now ask yourself how it could personally affect you if gay marriage was permitted and these lovers were permitted to tie the knot. No one should have to silently suffer. Discrimination is a thing of the pass.

This story is coming from someone who’s been in your shoes. Someone who’s been addiment on what marriage should look like and has had a rude awakening. We’re in a day and age where man and woman marriages barely last longer than the honey moon, so why not give these guys a shot.

I can’t wait for this wedding. I’m certain there will be an abundance of glitter, confetti, offensively good looking dresses, queens but most importantly LOVE. And we’re going to indulge in the glory of this ceremony whether the government in all its ignorance likes it or not


Originally published by Lacee on Facebook, republished with permission