From broomsticks to marriage

I was in first grade the first time I heard about same-sex marriage. It was circle time, and we were discussing families. The girl on my left insisted two girls or two boys could get married. I was blown away by the concept. Girls did not HAVE TO marry the opposite sex. A breakthrough idea for a 6-year-old.

The idea got put on the back burner until years later when I came out of the closet. My early years in college coincided with the first state's effort to legalize same-sex marriage. Hawaii was the first battleground.

In May 1993, the Hawaii Supreme Court called into question the constitutionality of a statute limiting marriage to opposite-sex couples. The excitement about the efforts there spread like wildfire through activist groups across the U.S.

We all felt it. Our time was coming.

But it didn't. At least, not yet.

In 1994, I jumped a broom with my partner. Borrowing from an traditional with pagan and slave roots, we created a circle of salt, clasped hands and took that leap. It was both a statement of our commitment to each other and a statement on the deficiencies in our civil rights.

In 1996, then-President Clinton dealt us a blow, signing the Defense of Marriage Act - something we are trying to repeal to this day. DOMA guaranteed the 1350+ federal rights given to married couples were exclusively for opposite-sex couples.

Hawaii again offered hope in 1997 as the state Supreme Court affirmed the unconstitutionality of limiting marriage to opposite-sex couples. It did not last long. The following year voters in Hawaii chose to reserve marriage rights for opposite-sex couples.

I married again in 2004. It was a Friday. Friday the thirteenth. For those few weeks in February and March 2004, more than 4,000 couples flocked to the city to tie the knot.

So, there I am standing with my wife and son and the mayor of San Francisco, Gavin Newsom.

That June, I met up with the thousands who I had stood in line with to get that precious certificate legalizing my bond with my partner.

Two months later, the California Supreme Court voided all of our marriages.

While neither of my marriages was successful, I don't have regrets about either of them.

I feel I have the same right to screw up in relationships as straight people do.

And in the years since I married in San Francisco, same-sex marriage rights have surged. Since the day I held that certificate in my hand, Massachusetts, Connecticut, Vermont, Iowa and now Maine have legalized marriage for me and my future partners. And the future of marriages in California still remains uncertain.

The storm is gathering. And I like it a lot.