â¤ď¸đTumblr Tuesday: Ao3 x TumblrâLove wins đâ¤ď¸
It finally happened. After some romancing in the ballpit, we popped the question and, folks, THEY SAID YES.Â
In short, we're in love! Now, we're in need of a ship name. Can you help? Vote below, or let us know if you come up with something better. This is now a matter of grave importance.
Pick a ship name for Ao3 x Tumblr:
ao3blr
tumo3
TagTeam
archblr
To3
aoob (archive of our blogs)
TAo3
Something Else (reply/tag it)
Voting ended onJul 9, 2025
(Thanks to all the folks on X who added some excellent (& some funny) suggestions to our little list)
Anyway, the fan art is already absolutely incredible, thank you for celebrating with us:
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
Emotional Walls Your Character Has Built (And What Might Finally Break Them)
(How your character defends their soft core and what could shatter it) Because protection becomes prison real fast.
✠Sarcasm as armor. (Break it with someone who laughs gently, not mockingly.)
âś Hyper-independence. (Break it with someone who shows up even when theyâre told not to.)
✠Stoicism. (Break it with a safe space to fall apart.)
âś Flirting to avoid intimacy. (Break it with real vulnerability they didnât see coming.)
âś Ghosting everyone. (Break it with someone who wonât take silence as an answer.)
✠Lying for convenience. (Break it with someone who sees through them but stays anyway.)
✠Avoiding touch. (Break it with accidental, gentle contact that feels like home.)
✠Oversharing meaningless things to hide real depth. (Break it with someone who asks the second question.)
✠Overworking. (Break it with forced stillness and the terrifying sound of their own thoughts.)
âś Pretending not to care. (Break it with a loss they canât fake their way through.)
✠Avoiding mirrors. (Break it with a quiet compliment that hits too hard.)
âś Turning every conversation into a joke. (Break it with someone who doesnât laugh.)
âś Being everyoneâs helper. (Break it when someone asks what they need, and waits for an answer.)
âś Constantly saying âIâm fine.â (Break it when they finally scream that theyâre not.)
âś Running. Always running. (Break it with someone who doesnât chase, but doesnât leave, either.)
âś Intellectualizing every feeling. (Break it with raw, messy emotion they canât logic away.)
âś Trying to be the strong one. (Break it when someone sees the weight theyâre carrying, and offers to help.)
✠Hiding behind success. (Break it when they succeed and still feel empty.)
✠Avoiding conflict at all costs. (Break it when silence causes more pain than the truth.)
âś Focusing on everyone elseâs healing but their own. (Break it when they hit emotional burnout.)
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
You canât just tell people to âget a VPN (Virtual Private Network)â. Buying a VPN is like buying a house. Itâs very very important. Having no VPN or having a âwrongâ one can seriously damage your life. Especially for Americans because their privacy laws are garbage. I am going to try explain why you should get a VPN but bare with me, I am from Germany and my English is far from perfect.Â
Letâs start with a simple test.
Click this link here:Â https://whatismyipaddress.com/
It will tell your IP adres, your ISP (internet service provider), and your location. The location might not be very accurate, but then again, itâs just a simple website. Imagine what the government can do!
So basically, everyone can find out where you live. But there is more danger. Your ISP. Your ISP logs your every move online and they are required to keep it in case the government wants access to it (or if a 3rd party wants to buy your data (yikes). They have everything. What websites you visit. How long you stay on a website. What you download. Your search terms. European laws are more subtle on this but if you are from the US you are #@*#&, especially because Trump doesnât support the open internet. Itâs scary but maybe in the future you canât get a job because the recruiter knows your searched on âhow to deal with depressionâ or anythings else thatâs supposed to be private because itâs your f*cking right. Or you get a $100k fine because you pirated a movie 15 years ago. You need a VPN. Youâre dumb for not using one. but what does a VPN do?
A VPN encrypts all your data so if it were be intercepted no one can âcrack the codeâ and damage your privacy.Â
Usually being online goes like this (simplified): Your computer â-> ISP (ââ> keeps data ââ> sells it)
But with a VPN it goes like: Your computer ââ> VPN (encrypts data)ââ> ISP (ISP canât see shit)
Furthermore, a VPN hides your IP address and location by giving you another IP address located in Spain for example (you can often choose from a list and change as many times as you want). Â
Now that you know why you should get a VPN and what is does it is important to educate yourself because people often choose the wrong VPN. VPN providers are also businesses and have to obey the law. If you choose a VPN provider located in the US then you are throwing your money away because the laws in the US shits on your privacy. If the US gov wants the provider to give all their logs they have to obey. The ISP  still canât see what you are doing online and sell your data but the US gov can interfere with your VPN provider so NEVER CHOOSE A PROVIDER LOCATED IN THE US.Â
I just wanted to make that very clear so my followers donât buy false security.
There is still more danger!Â
Who says your VPN provider isnât selling your data? You need to check their logging policy. Do they keep logs? If yes, what for? For how long do they keep them? Tip: Choose a provider who doesnât keep logs
More about lawÂ
The US is part of the Five Eyes program (the worst):Â Â
The Five Eyes, often abbreviated as FVEY, is an intelligence alliance comprising Australia, Canada, New Zealand, the United Kingdom and the United States. These countries are bound by the multilateral UKUSA Agreement, a treaty for joint cooperation in signals intelligence (source)
There is also a Nine Eyes (bit better) and Fourteen Eyes Program (better).Â
You donât want a VPN provider who is located in one the Five Eyes countries.Â
If you had to choose go for a provider located in a country thatâs part of the Fourteen Eyes Program or even better, go for a country that isnât part of any program!Â
I know this is a shitty explanation and please pardon my english but now itâs time to do your own research. Take your privacy seriously. Maybe WWIII breaks out and you get killed for liking the âwrongâ FB-page. Â
Go to this website:Â https://thatoneprivacysite.net/simple-vpn-comparison-chart/
Make sure that your future VPN provider both has green boxes for Privacy Jurisdiction and Privacy Logging.Â
I recommend ovpn.se and trust.zone. ovpn is located in Sweden so they are part of the 14 Eyes Program and they keep minimal logs. Their business ethics, however, are alright.Â
Trustzone is located in the Seychelles. No country can interfere and their privacy jurisdiction is the best you can get. The US want your data but needs to get it from Trustzone? The Seychelles will simply give them the finger and wave them goodbye. However, this makes this provider very appealing for people who torrent and criminals because they keep no logs (and that is how it shoud be) Also, Â there are almost no marketing efforts so this provider is one the cheapest)
Also, often providers such as ExpressVPN are being called âThe Bestâ on websites about VPNs but know that this is just marketing which also makes those provider more expensive (and they too shit on your privacy)
This must be the worst article you have ever read but please, please take your privacy very seriously.
EDIT: I got many people asking me which provider I use. For those who want to know, I use Trust Zone. They offer a free 3-day trial with no strings attached. But still do your own research!Â
I am also with Trustzone but I think you forgot to explain one of itâs most important features. It protects you when you are using someone elseâs Wi-Fi.
If you are at Starbucks and you use their Wi-Fi your privacy is at risk. Anyone with ill intentions could steal your information. Especially if you are using an unsecured Wi-Fi hotspot. With a VPN your data gets encrypted so no one can steal it.Â
Wait, whatâs going, on? Did trump destroy internet privacy with a bill or something? Whereâs the news? Oh wait, why am I getting visions of Alex Jones and selling water purifiers?
He hasnât yet but he says he wants to. And if he is serious about it it would be really easy to do. Since all our data is already recorded, as the person above explained.
@elvesfromthedeepâ just brought the current situation in the US to my attention (March 30, 2017).Â
Sources
Anger as US internet privacy law scrappedÂ
Congress just voted to let internet providers sell your browsing historyÂ
To all my friends in the US, please read this entire post. Making everyone aware of VPNs is going to be my mission. Your privacy matters. Please reblog this post.
Donât tell me you just wanted to scroll past this. Stop looking at pictures of cats for a moment, okay? Donât you realize how important this is? This is dangerous! âAmerica, the best FREE country in the worldâ my ass.
With this new law your ISP can sell your Internet history which could include passwords, usernames, religion, credit card numbers, race and much more to the highest bidder. So here is what I want you to do.
You are going to read the whole thing and before you think âthis is so important. Let me reblog this real quick and go back to admiring cats again-â NO! Donât reblog this. Take action first. Then reblog. Sign up for a free trial! Trust.Zone offers one (here). Yes. It might be difficult to set up a VPN for some people. But is that going to stop you from protecting yourself and your family? 30 minutes. 30 minutes is all that it takes. 5 if you know how to install software. The problem with some of you is that you see âdifficultâ as something negative. I want you to see difficult differently. I need you to push through this stuff. You are going to protect yourself. There is nothing negative about that.
VPNs are fun and costsaving too! A VPN bypasses geographical restrictions so you can access websites you normally canât or you could start Netflixâs one month free trial over and over again- forever. And itâs legal! (unless you use it to buy weapons etc.,)
Donât tell yourself that you are too tired and that you will do this tomorrow. Because that isnât going to happen and you know it. You have to do this right now. You only have to click on it. Donât let this/shit/life just happen to you. Take yourself seriously. Get a VPN.
Privacy is not a privilege, itâs a fundamental human right
Hey is thatoneprivacysite still good? The link works and it does take me to an article about vpns, but it just looks like an ad for expressvpn with extra steps.
I had Trust.Zone when this post first started making the rounds on Tumblr and I forgot about it after Biden took office. I recently sent them an email asking why my subscription wasnât automatically renewed and why their website hasnât changed since 2017(?). Their answer:
Shady people, good people, this company only cares about privacy and doesnât care who it serves. But now with Trump and Musk this is the only VPN Iâll use.
I understand some people might not want to use this VPN on moral grounds, but itâs genuinely one of the very few VPNs set up in a way that no authority can touch you. ExpressVPN and other âpopularâ options operate in jurisdictions favorable for profits but their privacy is just a band-aid our government can easily rip off if it demands information. Iâm a trans man, Iâm afraid of our government, and at this point, I simply donât care anymore.
For a second I was like noooooo, not this long post again! Havenât seen it in years and I always thought it was a bit extreme and exaggerated. Now that we are in 2025, I am like, nahh, these people knew what they were talking about all along. First time I am reblogging this.
The argument against VPNs has always been, âbut I have nothing to hide.â Now that an unpredictable lunatic is in charge, purging based on whatever whim strikes him, that sentiment is quickly fading. VPNs arenât just about hiding personal secrets; theyâre about protecting freedom, autonomy, and your basic right to live without unjust scrutiny or arbitrary persecution.
someone on twitter is trying to claim that use of an em-dash is an indication of AI-generated writing because itâs ârelatively rareâ for actual humans to use it. skill issue
Twenty years ago, February 15th, 2004, I got married for the first time.
It was twenty years earlier than I ever expected to.
To celebrate/comemorate the date, I'm sitting down to write out everything I remember as I remember it. No checking all the pictures I took or all the times I've written about this before. I'm not going to turn to my husband (of twenty years, how the f'ing hell) to remember a detail for me.
This is not a 100% accurate recounting of that first wild weekend in San Francisco. But it -is- a 100% accurate recounting of how I remember it today, twenty years after the fact.
Join me below, if you would.
2004 was an election year, and much like conservatives are whipping up anti-trans hysteria and anti-trans bills and propositions to drive out the vote today, in 2004 it was all anti-gay stuff. Specifically, preventing the evil scourge of same-sex marriage from destroying everything good and decent in the world.
Enter Gavin Newstrom. At the time, he was the newly elected mayor of San Francisco. Despite living next door to the city all my life, I hadnât even heard of the man until Valentines Day 2004 when he announced that gay marriage was legal in San Francisco and started marrying people at city hall.
It was a political stunt. It was very obviously a political stunt. That shit was illegal, after all. But it was a very sweet political stunt. I still remember the front page photo of two ancient women hugging each other forehead to forehead and crying happy tears.
But it was only going to last for as long as it took for the California legal system to come in and make them knock it off.
The next day, weâre on the phone with an acquaintance, and she casually mentions that sheâs surprised the two of us arenât up at San Francisco getting married with everyone else.
âEveryone else?â Goes I, âI thought they wouldâve shut that down already?â
âOh no!â goes she, âThe courts arenât open until Tuesday. Presidents Day on Monday and all. Theyâre doing them all weekend long!â
We didnât know because social media wasnât a thing yet. I only knew as much about it as Iâd read on CNN, and most of the blogs I was following were more focused on what bullshit President George W Bush was up to that day.
"Well shit", me and my man go, "do you wanna?" I mean, itâs a political stunt, it wont really mean anything, but weâre not going to get another chance like this for at least 20 years. Why not?
The next day, Sunday, we get up early. We drive north to the southern-most BART station. We load onto Bay Area Rapid Transit, and rattle back and forth all the way to the San Francisco City Hall stop.
We had slightly miscalculated.
Apparently, demand for marriages was far outstripping the staff they had on hand to process them. Who knew. Everyone whoâd gotten turned away Saturday had been given tickets with times to show up Sunday to get their marriages done. My babe and I, we could either wait to see if there was a space that opened up, or come back the next day, Monday.
âIsnât City Hall closed on Monday?â I asked. âItâs a holidayâ
âOh sure,â they reply, âbut people are allowed to volunteer their time to come in and work on stuff anyways. And we have a lot of people who want to volunteer their time to have the marriage licensing offices open tomorrow.â
âOh cool,â we go, âBackup.â
âMake sure youâre here if you do,â they say, âbecause the California Supreme Court is back in session Tuesday, and will be reviewing the motion that got filed to shut us down.â
And all this shit is super not-legal, so theyâll totally be shutting us down goes unsaid.
00000
We donât get in Saturday. We wind up hanging out most of the day, though.
Itâs⌠incredible. I can say, without hyperbole, that I have never experienced so much concentrated joy and happiness and celebration of othersâ joy and happiness in all my life before or since. My face literally ached from grinning. Every other minute, a new couple was coming out of City Hall, waving their paperwork to the crowd and cheering and leaping and skipping. Two glorious Latina women in full Mariachi band outfits came out, one in the arms of another. A pair of Jewish boys with their families and Rabbi. One couple managed to get a Just Married convertible arranged complete with tin-cans tied to the bumper to drive off in. More than once I was giving some rice to throw at whoever was coming out next.
At some point in the mid-afternoon, there was a sudden wave of extra cheering from the several hundred of us gathered at the steps, even though no one was coming out. There was a group going up the steps to head inside, with some generic black-haired shiny guy at the front. My not-yet-husband nudged me, âThatâs Newsom.â He said, because he knew I was hopeless about matching names and people.
Ooooooh, I go. That explains it. Then I joined in the cheers. He waved and ducked inside.
So dusk is starting to fall. Itâs February, so itâs only six or so, but itâs getting dark.
âShould we just try getting in line for tomorrow -now-?â we ask.
âYeah, Iâm afraid thatâs not going to be possible.â One of the volunteers tells us. âWeâre not allowed to have people hang out overnight like this unless there are facilities for them and security. Weâd need Porta-Poties for a thousand people and police patrols and the whole lot, and no one had time to get all that organized. Your best bet is to get home, sleep, and then catch the first BART train up at 5am and keep your fingers crossed.
Monday is the last day to do this, after all.
00000
So we go home. We crash out early. We wake up at 4:00. We drive an hour to hit the BART station. We get the first train up. We arrive at City Hall at 6:30AM.
The line stretches around the entirety of San Francisco City Hall. You could toss a can of Coke from the end of the line to the people whoâre up to be first through the doors and not have to worry about cracking it open after.
âUh.â We go. âWhat the fuck is -this-?â
So.
Remember why they werenât going to be able to have people hang out overnight?
Turns out, enough SF cops were willing to volunteer unpaid time to do patrols to cover security. And some anonymous person delivered over a dozen Porta-Poties thatâd gotten dropped off around 8 the night before.
Itâs 6:30 am, there are almost a thousand people in front of us in line to get this literal once in a lifetime marriage, the last chance we expect to have for at least 15 more years (it was 2004, gay rights were getting shoved back on every front. It was not looking good. We were just happy we lived in California were we at least werenât likely to loose job protections any time soon.).
Then it starts to rain.
We had not dressed for rain.
00000
Here is how the next six hours go.
Weâre in line. Once the doors open at 7am, it will creep forward at a slow crawl. Itâs around 7 when someone shows up with garbage bags for everyone. Cut holes for the head and arms and youâve got a makeshift raincoat! So youâve got hundreds of gays and lesbians decked out in the nicest shit they could get on short notice wearing trashbags over it.
Everyone is so happy.
Everyone is so nervous/scared/frantic that we wont be able to get through the doors before they close for the day.
People online start making delivery orders.
Coffee and bagels are ordered in bulk and delivered to City Hall for whoever needs it. We get pizza. We get roses. Random people come by who just want to give hugs to people in line because theyâre just so happy for us. The tour busses make detours to go past the lines. Chinese tourists lean out with their cameras and shout GOOD LUCK while car horns honk.
A single sad man holding a Bible tries to talk people out of doing this, tells us all weâre sinning and to please donât. He gives up after an hour. A nun replaces him with a small sign about how this is against Godâs will. She leaves after it disintegrates in the rain.
The day before, when it was sunny, there had been a lot of protestors. Including a large Muslim group with their signs about how âNot even DOGS do such things!â Which⌠Yes they do.
A lot of snide words are said (by me) about how the fact that weâre willing to come out in the rain to do this while theyâre not willing to come out in the rain to protest it proves who actually gives an actual shit about the topic.
Time passes. I measure it based on which side of City Hall weâre on. The doors face East. We start on Northside. Coffee and trashbags are delivered when weâre on the North Side. Pizza first starts showing up when weâre on Westside, which is also where I see Bible Man and Nun. Roses are delivered on Southside. And so forth.
00000
We have Line Neighbors.
Ahead of us are a gay couple a decade or two older than us. Theyâve been together for eight years. The older one is a school teacher. He has his coat collar up and turns away from any news cameras that come near while we reposition ourselves between the lenses and him. Heâs worried about the parents of one of his students seeing him on the news and getting him fired. The younger one will step away to get interviewed on his own later on. They drove down for the weekend once they heard what was going on. Theyâd started around the same time we did, coming from the Northeast, and are parked in a nearby garage.
The most perky energetic joyful woman Iâve ever met shows up right after we turned the corner to Southside to tackle the younger of the two into a hug. Sheâs their local friend whoâd just gotten their message about what theyâre doing and she will NOT be missing this. She is -so- happy for them. Her friends cry on her shoulders at her unconditional joy.
Behind us are a lesbian couple whoâd been up in San Francisco to celebrate their 12th anniversary together. âWe met here Valentines Day weekend! We live down in San Diego, now, but we like to come up for the weekend because itâs our first love city.â
âThen they announced -this-,â the other one says, âand we canât leave until we get married. I called work Sunday and told them I calling in sick until Wednesday.â
âI told them why,â her partner says, âI donât care if they want to give me trouble for it. This is worth it. Fuck them.â
My husband-to-be and I look at each other. Weâve been together for not even two years at this point. Less than two years. Is it right for us to be here? Weâre potentially taking a spot from another couple thatâd been together longer, who needed it more, who deserved it more.â
âDonât you fucking dare.â Says the 40-something gay couple in front of us.
âThis is as much for you as it is for us!â says the lesbian couple whoâve been together for over a decade behind us.
âYou kids are too cute together,â says the gay coupleâs friend. âyou -have- to. Someday -youâre- going to be the old gay couple thatâs been together for years and years, and you deserve to have been married by then.â
We stay in line.
Itâs while weâre on the Southside of City Hall, just about to turn the corner to Eastside at long last that we pick up our own companions. A white woman who reminds me an awful lot of my aunt with a four year old black boy riding on her shoulders. âCan we say weâre with you? His uncles are already inside and theyâre not letting anyone in who isnât with a couple right there.â âOf course!â we say.
The kid is so very confused about what all the big deal is, but thereâs free pizza and the busses keep driving by and honking, so heâs having a great time.
We pass by a statue of Lincoln with âMarriage for All!â and "Gay Rights are Human Rights!" flags tucked in the crooks of his arms and hanging off his hat.
Itâs about noon, noon-thirty when we finally make it through the doors and out of the rain.
Theyâve promised that anyone whoâs inside when the doors shut will get married. We made it. Weâre safe.
We still have a -long- way to go.
00000
Theyâre trying to fit as many people into City Hall as possible. Partially to get people out of the rain, mostly to get as many people indoors as possible. The line now stretches down into the basement and up side stairs and through hallways Iâm not entirely sure the public should ever be given access to. We crawl along slowly but surely.
Itâs after weâve gone through the low-ceiling basement hallways past offices and storage and back up another set of staircases and are going through a back hallway of low-ranked functionary offices that someone comes along handing out the paperwork. âItâs an hour or so until you hit the office, but take the time to fill these out so you donât have to do it there!â
We spend our time filling out the paperwork against walls, against backs, on stone floors, on books.
We enter one of the public areas, filled with displays and photos of City Hall Demonstrations of years past.
I take pictures of the big black and white photo of the Abraham Lincoln statue holding banners and signs against segregation and for civil rights.
The four year old boy we helped get inside runs past us around this time, chased by a blond haired girl about his own age, both perused by an exhausted looking teenager helplessly begging them to stop running.
Everyone is wet and exhausted and vibrating with anticipation and the building-wide aura of happiness that infuses everything.
The line goes into the marriage office. A dozen people are at the desk, shoulder to shoulder, far more than it was built to have working it at once.
A Sister of Perpetual Indulgence is directing people to city officials the moment they open up. Sheâs done up in her nun getup with all her makeup on and her beard is fluffed and be-glittered and on point. âOh, I was here yesterday getting married myself, but today Iâm acting as your guide. Number 4 sweeties, and -Congradulatiooooons!-â
The guy behind the counter has been there since six. Itâs now 1:30. Heâs still giddy with joy. He counts our money. He takes our paperwork, reviews it, stamps it, sends off the parts he needs to, and hands the rest back to us. âAlright, go to the Rotunda, theyâll direct you to someone whoâll do the ceremony. Then, if you want the certificate, theyâll direct you to -that- line.â âCanât you just mail it to us?â âNormally, yeah, but the moment the courts shut us down, weâre not going to be allowed to.â
We take our paperwork and join the line to the Rotunda.
If youâve seen James Bond: A View to a Kill, youâve seen the San Francisco City Hall Rotunda. There are literally a dozen spots set up along the balconies that overlook the open area where marriage officials and witnesses are gathered and are just processing people through as fast as they can.
Thatâs for the people who didnât bring their own wedding officials.
Thereâs a Catholic-adjacent couple there who seem to have brought their entire families -and- the priest on the main steps. Theyâre doing the whole damn thing. Thereâs at least one more Rabbi at work, I canât remember what else. Just that there was a -lot-.
We get directed to the second story, northside. The San Francisco City Treasurer is one of our two witnesses. Our marriage officient is some other elected official I cannot remember for the life of me (and I'm only writing down what I can actively remember, so I can't turn to my husband next to me and ask, but he'll have remembered because that's what he does.)
I have a wilting lily flower tucked into my shirt pocket. My pants have water stains up to the knees. My hair is still wet from the rain, I am blubbering, and I canât get the ring on my husbandâs finger. The picture is a treat, I tell you.
There really isnât a word for the mix of emotions I had at that time. Complete disbelief that this was reality and was happening. Relief that weâd made it. Awe at how many dozens of people had personally cheered for us along the way and the hundreds to thousands whoâd cheered for us generally.
Then we're married.
Then we get in line to get our license.
Itâs another hour. This time, the line goes through the higher stories. Then snakes around and goes past the doorway to the mayorâs office.
Mayor Newsom is not in today. And will be having trouble getting into his office on Tuesday because of the absolute barricade of letters and flowers and folded up notes and stuffed animals and City Hall maps with black marked âTHANK YOU!âs that have been piled up against it.
We make it to the marriage records office.
I take a picture of my now husband standing in front of a case of the marriage records for 1902-1912. Numerous kids are curled up in corners sleeping. My own memory is spotty. I just know we got the papers, and then weâre done with lines. We get out, we head to the front entrance, and we walk out onto the City Hall steps.
It's almost 3PM.
00000
There are cheers, thereâs rice thrown at us, there are hundreds of people celebrating us with unconditional love and joy and I had never before felt the goodness that exists in humanity to such an extent. Itâs no longer raining, just a light sprinkle, but there are still no protestors. Thereâs barely even any news vans.
We make our way through the gauntlet, we get hands shaked, people with signs reading âCongratulations!â jump up and down for us. We hit the sidewalks, and we begin to limp our way back to the BART station.
Iâm at the BART station, weâre waiting for our train back south, and Iâm sitting on the ground leaning against a pillar and in danger of falling asleep when a nondescript young man stops in front of me and shuffles his feet nervously. âHey. I just- I saw you guys, down at City Hall, and I just⌠Iâm so happy for you. Iâm so proud of what you could do. Iâm- Iâm just really glad, glad you could get to do this.â
He shakes my hand, clasps it with both of his and shakes it. I thank him and he smiles and then hurries away as fast as he can without running.
Our train arrives and the trip south passes in a semilucid blur.
We get back to our car and climb in.
Itâs 4:30 and we are starving.
Thereâs a Carls Jr near the station that we stop off at and have our first official meal as a married couple. We sit by the window and watch people walking past and pick out others who are returning from San Francisco. We're all easy to pick out, what with the combination of giddiness and water damage.
We get home about 6-7. We take the dog out for a good long walk after being left alone for two days in a row. We shower. We bundle ourselves up. We bury ourselves in blankets and curl up and just sort of sit adrift in the surrealness of what weâd just done.
We wake up the next day, Tuesday, to read that the California State Supreme Court has rejected the petition to shut down the San Francisco weddings because the paperwork had a misplaced comma that made the meaning of one phrase unclear.
The State Supreme Court would proceed to play similar bureaucratic tricks to drag the process out for nearly a full month before they have nothing left and finally shut down Mayor Newsomâs marriages.
My parents had been out of state at the time at a convention. They were flying into SFO about the same moment we were walking out of City Hall. I apologized to them later for not waiting and my mom all but shook me by the shoulders. âNo! No one knew that theyâd go on for so long! You did what you needed to do! Iâll just be there for the next one!â
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It was just a piece of paper. Legally, it didnât even hold any weight thirty days later. My philosophy at the time was âmarriage really isnât that important, aside from the legal benefits. Itâs just confirming what you already have.â
But maybe itâs just societal weight, or ingrained culture, or something, but it was different after. The way I described it at the time, and Iâve never really come up with a better metaphor is, âItâs like we were both holding onto each other in the middle of the ocean in the middle of a storm. We were keeping each other above water, we were each otherâs support. But then we got this piece of paper. And it was like the ground rose up to meet our feet. We were still in an ocean, still in the middle of a storm, but there was a solid foundation beneath our feet. We still supported each other, but there was this other thing that was also keeping our heads above the water.
It was different. It was better. It made things more solid and real.
I am forever grateful for all the forces and all the people who came together to make it possible. Itâs been twenty years and weâre still together and still married.
We did a domestic partnership a year later to get the legal paperwork. Weâd done a private ceremony with proper rings (not just ones grabbed out of the husbandâs collection hours before) before then. And in 2008, we did a legal marriage again.
Rushed. In a hurry. Because there was Proposition 13 to be voted on which would make them all illegal again if it passed.
It did, but we were already married at that point, and they couldnât negate it that time.
Another few years after that, the Supreme Court finally threw up their hands and said "Fine! It's been legal in places and nothing's caught on fire or been devoured by locusts. It's legal everywhere. Shut up about it!"
And that was that.
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When I was in highschool, in the late 90s, I didnât expect to see legal gay marriage until I was in my 50s. I just couldnât see how the American public as it was would ever be okay with it.
I never expected to be getting married within five years. I never expected it to be legal nationwide before Iâd barely started by 30s. I never thought Iâd be in my 40s and itâd be such a non-issue that the conservative rabble rousers wouldâve had to move onto other wedge issues altogether.
I never thought that I could introduce another man as my husband and absolutely no one involved would so much as blink.
I never thought Iâd live in this world.
And itâs twenty years later today. I wonder how our line buddies are doing. Those babies who were running around the wide open rooms playing tag will have graduated college by now. The kids whose parents the one line-buddy was worried would see him are probably married too now. Some of them to others of the same gender.
I donât have some greater message to make with all this. Other then, culture can shift suddenly in ways you canât predict. For good or ill. Mainly this is just me remembering the craziest fucking 36 hours of my life twenty years after the fact and sharing them with all of you.
The future weâre resigned to doesnât have to be the one we live in. Society can shift faster than you think. The unimaginable of twenty years ago is the baseline reality of today.
And always remember that the people who want to get married will show up by the thousands in rain that none of those whoâre against it will brave.
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