I still find it exotic.  And ironic.  My husband.  When the phrase leaves my tongue, it’s accompanied by a mix of pride and bemusement.  Me?  With a husband?  A male husband?

When my ex and I broke up after a decade together, because I had always identified as bi, she asked me, with some vicarious curiosity, if I was going to go date a guy now that we were split.  Date being a euphemism, for those of you who didn’t catch that.

My response was, “Hell, yes,” then we both laughed (or cried) because we both knew, without a doubt, there was no way I could put up with the male emotional world and so my dating would be short-lived.

Who knew crow tasted this good?

Some women say or write, “my husband” without a second thought, but I am all second-thought-y, not to mention thrice-thought-y.  I am not trying to flaunt my heterosexual privilege.  Though how could you know, unless you know me?  I am not trying to be thoughtless or to erase my brothers’ or sisters’ queer couplings, because if you knew me, you’d know I’m all about shouting those from the hilltops.

What I am trying to do is own and acknowledge my heterosexual privilege, rather than hide it.  I am trying to be visible as a bisexual women in a heterosexual marriage that has high hopes of lasting a lifetime.  I am trying to invoke the fluidity of this “my” part of the phrase, though I suppose that is more in the tone of voice than the words I say.   The written word doesn’t convey very this well at all.

I am aiming for a tone that suggests that the husband part fits (because I really like this guy), but I am still working on the my part of it.  Or maybe it’s the other way around: the my part fits, because we are a good pair together, but the husband-y part takes a little getting used to.

I have always respected het people who use the gender-neutral term, “partner.”  I have found it to be an act of solidarity, a devaluing of the hetero-normative prerogative so abundant everywhere.  There have been times when I have witnessed its use as small acts of courage in the face of over-saturation of the breeder type, persisting in the face of the listener’s confusion or gossip-y derision.  I like that it leaves them (even me) guessing, particularly if the person is really good at avoiding the use of specific pronouns.

I thought after the first year of my marriage, after some trial period of playing with this novel concept, I would make that transition from “husband” to “partner.”

Turns out, “partner” is way too vanilla.  My ex used to say that all the time and I never gave her full credit for her prescience in this area.

Go figure but “husband” – of all words and relationships – is kinda edgy.  At least for me.  I am not exactly sure how this can be, given it is also THE word most associated with patriarchical ownership of women (well, besides dowry, which isn’t used so much in my culture these days).  I’d love to say it’s because of gay boys claiming it for themselves in the world of marriage equality, but that’d be b.s..

This is going to sound strange, and I’m not even sure I can defend the logic of it, but at this moment on my own personal timeline, the phrase and the tone together remind me, if no one else, of my bi-ness.  And its fluidity: past, present, and future.  (Which, by the way, has nothing to do with my commitment to monogamy, which is – like for everyone else – totally independent of sexual orientation.)

I am well aware that if I lived somewhere different than the town referred to by the National Enquirer as “Lesbianville,” I would have a different perspective on the word.  There wouldn’t be this same ease with the level of inclusion and justice as is mostly demonstrated here, where traditional gender roles are regularly flouted even by non-progressive hetero types.

That’s not to say it’s all hunky-dory, but compared with the rest of the nation and world, it’s pretty darn good here.  Massachusetts was the first state to enact marriage quality.  We had the first openly lesbian mayor in the U.S.  I originally moved to this state with my ex because of their advanced laws towards lesbian parents, both those who give birth and those who adopt.  In 2011, our city council voted unanimously to support state legislation affirming the rights of transgendered persons.

Right now, I live in appreciation of my community.  Right now, I live with the anticipation that once I become a minister, if I am going to serve a congregation, I will have to leave all this behind.   Right now, I live with an awareness that I’ll more likely be around women and their husbands and men with their wives, and a lot less public affirmation for the gender and sexual orientation continuums that human beings exist within.

If such is the case, in doing my part to hold the tension of love and justice, I will be declaring as many versions of gender-neutral names for my partner and practicing the meticulous avoidance of pronouns all over the place.  And looking for those others who do so as well.  I’m guessing, and hoping, and expecting to find more of those kindred spirits among Unitarian Universalists, wherever I end up.