Interesting article.. It's not really in line with my own views, as I'm much more anti-marriage than the author.

I am married. And I love Chris. And we married for both practical (health care coverage for me) and romantic (there's just gotta be something intangibly wonderful about being married!) reasons. But over the past four years, we've come to a similar conclusion: our romantic expectations were dead wrong. I thought that marriage would somehow enrich or deepen our relationship, but the truth of the matter is that our relationship was already rich and thriving when we got married. Our relationship has been magical from the start and I don't trace the moment our union was formed to our wedding day. We were united when we realized that we were in this relationship for the long haul. Our relationship continues to grow and deepen, but it would have done so even if we weren't married. And the state of being married is not a kind of glue keeping us together -- we stay together because we want to be together.

For us, the value of marriage as an institution comes from the legal recognition of our relationship. At the time we got married, the only means for such recognition was marriage. But if a civil union had been an option, I would have lept for it, partly because I'm not a fan of the legal and social history of marriage and partly because neither one of us has a need for the social validation/blessing that is associated with marriage.

But we have society's blessing, whether we want it or not. I'm almost uncomfortable about being married sometimes -- I feel like the institution has, in some ways, burdened us with certain social expectations that we cannot or will not meet. For example, upon learning that I'm married, many people -- usually completely strangers -- don't seem to have a problem asking if I have kids. Then there's the follow-up question -- when are we going to have kids? -- which once made me defensive and now makes me tired. Why is there an underlying assumption that we'd ever even consider having kids? In my mind, I also tend to view marriage as a tired, conservative institution that serves to reinforce gender roles. I think I might be too extreme on that count, but the fact that we're married still, on many levels, startles me. It's still bizzare to think of myself as someone's wife. I love being a partner, a soul mate, even a help mate (or in my case, a lazy and not-so-helpful help mate). But to this day, I don't enjoy being "Chris' wife." And I still stumble mentally over referring to Chris as "my husband." He's "Chris." Or "honey." Or "my significant other." Notice I don't have a problem with thinking in terms of possessives. We do claim ownership in some sense over each other. FN1 But in my mind's eye, the word "wife" conjures images of June Cleaver or Harriet Nelson, reeking of domesticity. Nevertheless, I do refer to Chris as my husband in social conversation and I usually don't respond negatively to being called his wife because I recognize that despite the baggage that I associate with these terms, they are useful social shortcuts. FN2 And while we've never actively sought social validation, can be a useful side-effect of being married.

In the end, marriage, and all the legal and social implications of marriage, is a status that Chris and I enjoy by default. It seems absurd to me that we get to enjoy this status when so many folks who would fully appreciate this institution are denied access. Massachusetts is another step in the right direction, and it's worth celebrating.

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FN1: of course, the true "owner" in our household is our cat. :)
FN2: But DO NOT call me Mrs. Comerford!