Marriage Inequality

As we celebrate the 10th anniversary of same-sex marriage being legalised in Ireland, it is important to remember that the fight for true equality is not over. Alannah Murray outlines the challenges disabled people face when deciding to wed, and encourages the queer community to act in solidarity. Photo by Aoife O’Sullivan.

Disability — Activism — Marriage

I am going to heavily caveat this article by saying that I love love. I do not begrudge non-disabled queer people for celebrating 10 years of an important moment in our collective history and in Irish legal history. I do ask, however, where is our solidarity?

For those who aren’t aware, disabled queer people still do not have marriage equality even despite same-sex marriage being legalised. This is why I always refer to it as same-sex marriage rather than marriage equality, because I believe that I, as a queer disabled person, should have the same rights as my non-disabled peers.

Anyone who knows me knows that I was blessed enough to marry the love of my life last year and have not shut up about it since, but we had to have a difficult conversation before we did that. We are both on Disability Allowance, which is means-tested. By being married, we’re jointly means-tested. That means that if either of us earns more than €165 extra a week, it begins to impact our payment, and past a certain point, one of us working will mean we both lose our Disability Allowance. Not only that, but it means losing things like the travel pass we both have and both of our medical cards. This often leads to a choice between love and survival. If you’re cohabiting with a partner, it’s the same story. As a queer disabled couple, where is our marriage equality?

Disabled people have carried this unequal burden for years with little to no solidarity from the wider queer community. I even referenced it in what became the cover story for GCN last year. There has been no outreach since then for disabled marriage equality, no rainbow coalition of groups speaking out in support. Nobody within the queer community has seen the plight of disabled queers and said, “Hey, maybe we as non-disabled allies with connections and privilege can help!” There is only silence and business as usual. Nobody outside of the disabled community is talking about this issue and the myriad of problems it presents. Is it so wrong to want and indeed expect more from our seemingly progressive society?

Lack of solidarity is not new, which anyone familiar with the work disabled queer people are doing will already know. Nobody in the wider community is talking about the lack of support disabled queer couples face because they think it does not affect them, despite disabled being the only minority group that you can join at any time. For example, if there is a disabled queer couple that breaks down due to intimate partner violence or coercion, there is no data on accessible resources. According to Women’s Aid, this happens in 25 per cent of LGBTQ+ couples. There are already issues with accessibility within our community and disabled people already feel excluded from the queer experience, making it easier than ever for someone in a queer disabled relationship to be the victim of these types of crimes. This is one of the very real consequences that a lack of solidarity can bring. By excluding disabled people or worse, not even considering them in the first place, it denies their dual identity as disabled queer people. This doesn’t account for queer people of colour who are also disabled either. There is no separating my disability from my queerness and vice versa, despite the consistent erasure of one for the other.

I can only speak for myself when I say I am deeply disappointed in what is supposed to be my community, because it doesn’t feel like my community as a disabled person. The very nature of equality is supposed to mean that it is the same for everyone, so why does it feel like ensuring marriage equality for disabled queer people isn’t a priority for my non-disabled peers? The fight is not one we want fought for us or on our behalf, but with partners. With allies. It doesn’t feel like I could rely on the non-disabled queer community to show up for me the same way that it showed up for the broader Marriage Equality campaign. I am desperately hoping to be proven wrong!

Disabled queer people can and will exist without a lack of solidarity from our non-disabled peers as we have been doing for years—but we shouldn’t have to. It is important that this doesn’t act as a shaming tool, but an invitation. Showing up is still important because we still don’t have marriage equality. Nobody is equal until we all are, and the fight is far from over.