I received roses from my partner on Valentine’s Day. We have spent 21 years making a home, raising children, facing challenges together. And so I wonder why our president wants to ensure that we can never marry.
You see, the person I have loved all these years happens to be the same gender as myself.
Our children are grown now, with families of their own. I nursed them through illnesses, attended school conferences, helped them with homework, encouraged them in sports, scrutinized their boyfriends, trembled through their driving lessons. My partner is their birth mother. They consider me their “second mom.” Yet, society and our government relegates me to an inferior role.
I never even enjoyed a stepparent’s rights to our children, let alone the possibility of adopting them. Their teachers had more legal rights than I did. Their school would not allow me to be listed as the emergency contact because I wasn’t a “blood relative.”
Parenting is daunting enough. Marriage could have eased some of the difficulty.
Fortunately, I work for an employer who, 10 years ago, began to provide domestic partner benefits. Yet, when we purchased medical insurance, we discovered another harsh reality for the unwed. My married co-workers enjoy untaxed benefits. We must pay income tax on the imputed value of the insurance, not because we choose to avoid marriage, but because we are legally barred from marrying. While my employer embraces diversity, my government shuns it and increases my tax burden.
After all these years together, the likelihood of our relationship breaking apart is minimal. That is lucky for us because, without marriage, we have none of the protections offered by a legal divorce. I could have lost all rights to visit our children. I devoted my life to them, but no law would assure me continued parental status.
Additionally, we have made absolutely certain every asset we own is placed in our joint names. Unlike married couples, neither of us is guaranteed equity in the case of a separation.
Much more frightening to us than divorce, though, is the inevitability of death. When that day arrives, one of us could be left facing major legal obstacles. Although we have created wills and other necessary documents, I cannot be certain, as any married person can, that my loved one will inherit all our property. There always exists the possibility of contentious family members battling our wishes in court and depriving my partner of our life’s possessions. Our marriage could put such fears to rest.
According to a 1997 report by the Government Accounting Office, more than 1,000 legal rights and benefits automatically are granted to married couples. For example, if a married person receives Medicaid assistance for nursing home care, the spouse cannot be forced from their jointly owned home. Married persons can take time off work to care for an ill spouse under the Family and Medical Leave Act. A married person can receive survivor benefits from Social Security when a spouse dies, or inherit a retirement plan without severe tax burdens.
All these rights, and hundreds more, are denied to my partner and me.
While gays in Colorado scored two key victories recently – the House shot down a ban on gay marriage and both houses approved bills to protect gays and lesbians from hate crimes and job discrimination – there’s still a lot to be done. There’s also no guarantee that Gov. Bill Owens will sign the proposals into law.
Still, my strongest reason for wishing to marry is far less practical than basic rights given to married heterosexual couples. One day, I would simply like to introduce the woman I love not as my partner, or friend, or co-parent, but as my spouse. By that title, people would recognize the true meaning of our relationship and the depth of our love.
Ann Zimmerman (amz80452@att.net) lives in Idaho Springs and is a maintenance electrician at the Coors Brewery in Golden.
