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Mon Nov 19, 2012 at 07:00 PM PST

1111 Days Later

by rejoice

It's been 1111 days since my last diary.

Which was also my first diary. What can I say, I'm not a prolific dKos diarist.

For the record: Four Left Feet: Dancing at Maine Weddings.

That day, I needed to post about the sadness I felt when my neighbors in Maine voted against marriage equality. I'm from Massachusetts, I'm a lesbian, and I'd been to a wedding in Maine the month prior. That entire evening I'd been hyper-aware of my queerness, even though I'm a chubby, femme-y lesbian who passes and passes and passes, whether I intend to or not. I'd been thinking on the ride home about how I could have more rights in one place, and fewer rights in another -- not because of any change in myself from one place to the next, but because of a change in something as ephemeral as opinion.  

The morning I wrote that post, I was desperately sad. I tried to be optimistic, I tried to believe things would be okay, but it felt so personal. I knew people had fought the good fight, and done their best, and that the times were changing. I knew how much worse it had to be for queer folks living in Maine. I knew I was the lucky one. I felt relief and guilt and sadness and I tried to feel hope.

But gay marriage had been voted down. I felt like a majority of people were telling me -- me personally, the girl who giggled at the idea of adopting lobsters from the lobster pounds, and knew what Stephen King's fence looked like in 1992, and had camped in a field to see stars you couldn't see from the city, and had waded into the ocean on Memorial Day weekend because kids in New England don't know what warm water feels like -- I felt like a majority of people from this place I knew so well were telling me that my love was wrong.

That feeling stayed with me for a long, long time.

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Last month, I drove up to Maine to attend a wedding.

It was a beautiful day. Sunny, warm, and it seemed like every wooded area on the ride up was determined to be more colorful than the last. I took a friend for company, and we left early, enjoyed leaf-peeping, had lunch on the deck of a waterfront restaurant, and went for a walk on the beach before driving to the church.

My friend the bride looked amazing. Her groom looked nervous. They're from California now, but Maine is important to her -- she's lived there every summer for as long as I've known her. They held their ceremony there because it was her dream, and guests made their way from California and Massachusetts because we wanted to celebrate their love for each other.

And all day, I was thinking, "I couldn't get married here."

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