Editor’s Note: James Blackmon writes The Other Side for Outlook. This column, originally printed in the February 2014 issue of the magazine, describes his feelings before, during and after his wedding day in December 2013.
By James Blackmon
On Dec 28, my husband of 20 years and I got legally married in Niagara Falls, N.Y.
Just a little over 20 years ago, on Dec 6, 1993, Duane and I married ourselves with a private exchange of vows in our apartment on King Avenue in Columbus. From that day on we’ve considered ourselves to be married. In it for life. And for the past 20 years I had been very proud of our marriage, because although we were not legally 
married and didn’t have to be together, at the end of every day we made the choice to be together.
It’s not like we didn’t want to get married. And it’s not like we couldn’t. Gay marriage has been legal in Massachusetts since 2004. But it would have done us no good in Ohio, because state law and the state constitution prevent us from marrying here and forbid the state from recognizing gay marriages performed elsewhere.
Marrying “just because” seemed pointless to us. We already were married. But then, everything changed.
“I’m Getting Married in the Morning…”
It’s June 26, 2013, and the U.S. Supreme Court has just ruled that a major portion of the Defense of Marriage Act, signed into law by President Clinton in 1996, is unconstitutional. Married gay and lesbian couples are eligible for federal benefits just like everybody else.
We… won?!? I can’t believe it. I thought for sure we’d lose. In fact, it took me a minute to grasp what this really means for me. After 20 years, in the eyes of my country, my marriage finally can be real. Now we have a reason.
We set a date: Dec 28. And we pick a place: Niagara Falls. New York allows gay marriage. Niagara, the Honeymoon Capital of the World, is less than six hours away.
“We Were Perfectly Happy Until We Decided to Live Happily Ever After…”
It’s early December, and I can’t stop thinking how in a few weeks, I’ll be legally married. What’s that going to feel like? But we’re already married, right? Well, sure. Kind of.
To me, my husband, and some friends and family, we’ve been married for a long time. But I wonder if in the eyes of other family members, straight friends and perhaps gay friends, too, if my marriage will be legitimized by the fact that we’ll be “really” married.
At our reception, a straight friend will say to me, “What were you thinking? You idiot! Now you’re gonna be just like all the rest of us: miserable. So congratulations, dumbass!” He, of course, is joking (sort of) and very funny, and the congratulations are sincere.
My friend and his wife already consider us married. But to some people, being legally bound for life is the definition of marriage. “Marriage is when you can’t get out of it,” a straight friend told me years ago. So, is that what I’m going to feel like? Suddenly imprisoned in a cell from which I cannot escape? I’ll soon to find out.
“Going to the Chapel and We’re Gonna Get Married…”
The ceremony is simple and sweet. Actually, it’s our second wedding. Five years after our private exchange of vows, we had a vow renewal/wedding ceremony and invited friends and family. We held everything at a really nice B&B in New Orleans. There was a cake, champagne and food, and about 30 people.
This time in New York, it’s just the officiate, Duane and me in our tuxedos and boutonnieres and the two friends who came to take pictures and be witnesses. The ceremony is in the beautiful chambers of the city clerk’s office in downtown Niagara. It lasts about five minutes. We sign our license, and our marriage is official.
“I’s Married Now, I Say I’s Married Now!”
And, honestly, nothing has changed. I’m just as happily married and committed to my husband as I was before. Now I can check the “married” box on forms that ask, and now, Duane really is my legal next of kin.
But other than that, I feel exactly the same.
Actually, that’s not true. As a black gay man from Alabama, over the last 4½ decades, I have been disappointed with my country. A lot. But now, for the first time in my 45 years, I feel like an American citizen.
I’m actually proud of my country. And that’s something I can honestly say I’ve never felt before.
James Blackmon is a musician, actor, director and former owner of James 88 Piano Bar in Columbus, and he writes The Other Side every other month for Outlook. You can follow him on Twitter @MrJamesBlackmon.
