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I have been having a hard time writing funny lately.  Normally lightheartedness comes easy.  I play the fop well.  And while I'd prefer an amusing post, this has been weighing heavy, and my struggle with it has been incredibly humbling.

Somewhere along in my learning, I was told that we should have many opinions, some beliefs, and few convictions.  If we start with just opinions, we can recognize what is both strong and faulty in our own way of thinking, and we can be appropriately swayed.  We can learn a thing or two, that's what open-mindedness can do!  It's good to have opinions.

With time and reinforcement, opinions can shift to beliefs; something more substantial. We nurture our understanding and get different perspectives, and decide actively what to believe.

Finally, beliefs solidify into convictions. They are solid and unmoving; they are our foundation. They are a part of us.  They make us who we are.

Marriage equality is a conviction for me.  I am not merely of the opinion that it is right.  It is not just a belief for me.  It is a conviction.

My previous marriage was interfaith.  Adam was a Jewish kid from the Bronx, and I was a Connecticut/Iowa WASP.  We were young kids in love, so I didn't give our different religions much thought.  I thought love trumped all. After sharing news of my engagement,  I was told point blank by one of my close friends (at the time) that I was stealing from her pot.  She said that Jews should marry their own kind in order to continue their religious identity and value. I tried to explain that I actually was more connected to Judaism than my soon-to-be-(ex)-husband was, and that I was planning on instilling the knowledge and value of his religion - and my own - in our children.  I did not manage to assuage any of her discomfort.

I am now in an interracial marriage.  My husband is African-American (although he refers to himself as "brown, baby, brown"). I don't think of it consciously as interracial, just like I didn't think of my first marriage as interfaith; I think of it as marriage. Did you know that in 1967 when a Federal law was enacted to protect interracial marriages, there were still 16 states with prohibitive laws in place?  Oh, but the discomfort lives on.  Look, we live in a country where just last week, a store owner called our president a n*gger on his store's sign. My husband and I had a woman register her disapproval of us by yelling and spitting on the ground in front of us. I keep making people uncomfortable with whom I love, apparently.

The reason for my conviction that marriage should be a right for all is this: Everything beautiful and pure and selfless and committed and joyful and loving that I have learned about relationships, has been built and reinforced by ALL types of couples in my life.  Straight, interracial, intergenerational, interfaith, gay and lesbian, you name it - I know them and love them for all I've learned from them.  I thank God that I've learned from them how to be part of a happy, healthy, successful couple myself.

There are moments I look at my husband and I am breathless.  I can't believe what it is to love him and be loved by him.
How could I ever deny another person of this? Not just the right to love, but the legal, ethical, moral right to to be acknowledged by the state, by banks, by health providers, by the church, by the military, and by the public. Not only am I unable to deny it, I must fight for their rights.

Love is humbling.