For better or for worse?

Within its powerful, liberating message, the Marriage Equality referendum regrettably communicated the implication that although all gays were now equal, the married ones are more equal than others. Such coupleism is endemic in our society where ‘The Big Day Out’ is the be all and end all of too many people’s life and personal goals. As Belgian psychoanalyst Paul Verhaeghe, argues in Love In a Time of Loneliness: “Family life has changed drastically, the couple of yesterday has almost vanished and paradoxically the main defenders of marriage are to be found in the gay community.”

Even this month’s GCN could reinforce this idea that the only good or successful gays are the married ones, and for LGBT+ folk who carry such a legacy of shame and marginalisation, the big pink wedding is the perfect way to validate your entire existence to yourself and to everyone else. Suddenly all those lonely Christmases, all that bullying at school, all those years of invisible, silenced, impossible intimate desires are validated in declaring not just ‘I do’ but ‘I am’. We are trapped in a repetitious Muriel’s Wedding parody, but without the comedy, where the married gays are valuable and those left on the shelf go unmentioned, and are at best stuck at a corner table.

Of course, such inherent coupleist anxieties are what push many heterosexuals into their ‘lifetime’ unions, while likewise ignoring that the control and limitations demanded by and within such unions lasts a lifetime. Despite obvious differences between emotional unions and the socio-economic contract of marriage, we fuse and confuse sex, love, relationships and marriage. Whatever jests we make at Bridezilla weddings, these are nothing compared to monstrous Frankenstein stories of married life.

As human beings, fear too often dictates our lives, rather than desire. The fear of being single, left on the shelf, a spinster of the parish, is a fear that drives too many people into marriage. And it is exactly these same fears that keep people stuck in relationships that may not be good or right or healthy for them.

Two nuances distinguishing same-sex relationships are firstly, the legacy of internalised homophobia; the message that we are worthless or worth less, our indoctrinated shame in being gay, which is why real pride is still so crucial. It is too easy for our fears to feed into our in-built worthlessness and so we tolerate less than we deserve or need, because after all, aren’t we lucky to be here at all?

Secondly, post-referendum, gay internalised coupleism has become the public key to resolving all previous shames and fears and anxieties. Now instead of standing out in drag karaokeing ‘I Am What I Am’, millennials get to declare ‘I do’ as a dozen pink doves are released into the air; free to enjoy the vow every childhood story promised, that now we can truly live happily ever after. Is it a coincidence with the disappearance of gay bars, clubs and community spaces that the only industries booming off the pink pound are pornography, hook-up apps and the wedding industry?

I must sound like the Scrooge of gay marriage, but alas, I have seen and heard too much from the ghosts of marriages past, present and future; some of those that got engaged that fateful day in May and are already living a cold September. The cornerstone of any relationship is compromise, but compromise as negotiation and conciliation; never a compromise of yourself, your core needs and values. I have seen too many people, gay and straight, compromise themselves into sexless dealings, open relationships, loneliness, emptiness, never mind being hurt, abused, beaten, humiliated, all because “at least they have someone”. And surely anyone is better than no one? Personally, I would rather choose to be with somebody rather than just anybody; even if, and especially if, that somebody ultimately was to be me.

“The fear of being single, le on the shelf, a spinster of the parish, is a fear that drives too many people into marriage.

The problem with two becoming one is that usually at least one person becomes lost, sometimes to the relationship (the ‘we’ people); other times to the dominant person, financially, socially, physically. As LGBT+ people we are all too familiar with bullying and intimidation, which isn’t always physical and apparent, but more often implied and intrinsic.

How much have we, in our histories, compromised ourselves, our needs to be in families, in jobs, in groups, in friendships? And how easily are those experiences transferred into patterns within same-sex relationships? There is such a vast distinction between being or having a partner and being or having a spouse. There is such courage and, more often than not, loneliness in following your own path and beating your own drum.

What is it we do to ourselves in saying ‘I do’? What is it we are willing to do, and perhaps more importantly, not do, to be coupled? The vows are determinedly for better and for worse, but we never really talk about the ‘worst’ in marriage; this is too often silenced by shame, fear and ‘happy ever after’ fantasies. If you want to make these vows to someone, to yourself, know the limits, what the worst is that you will stay for.

Our lives, our futures, our bodies, our minds are not blank cheques to be signed over to any joint bank account. When we marry, we legally take on the debts, liabilities and responsibilities of our spouse. Maybe reflect a little before signing that dotted line. It is incredibly difficult, painful and lonely to declare emotional bankruptcy; most people would rather silently go bust. Should you find that someone to commit to and with, remember the most solid relationships are never windfalls, but yield the best returns over a long term; just keep an eye on the interest you’re both investing.

Ray O’Neill is a psychoanalytic psychotherapist specialising in individual and relationship counselling. He can be contacted on 086 828 0033