Power in a Word

One of my favorite clients/friends came in for a haircut today. He is half of one of the most inspirational couples that I know, and a very thoughtful, creative, innovative, kind, and generous individual. Our visits are often silly and light, but never without a thoughtful interlude or discussion about family, relationships, marriage, spirituality and small business management. He and his wife came to our wedding and of course we had to dish about the event, a little over a week later. We chatted about the connection that was found at their dinner table during our reception. They were seated at a four top table with another lesbian couple that we know, and they hit it off right from the start. I put so much love and energy into the seating arrangement, and I knew that he and his wife would get along well with the ladies we sat them next to. It turns out that they were curious at best about the couple they were seated with, but within a few minutes they knew that it must have been purposeful on our part. They were so thrilled with the arrangement that they exchanged numbers at the end of the night. He wanted to talk about my family being there, commenting on his observation about my parents, other folks that he met, and of course the band. The discussion then moved on to life after the wedding. "Will you refer to Kayla as "wife" now?" He asked. It is a valid question, since in our culture thus far, we don't have a norm, per say for what to call your same sex partner. To one another, probably like many other couples, Kayla and I refer to each other in more than one way. Sometimes we call each other "wife" or "wifey". Sometimes I call Kayla "husband", and she even refers to herself as "husband", though that is more a playful term of endearment reserved for the two of us. I appreciated the question because it made me realize that sometimes my behavior in public, to strangers, or to new clients for instance, is subconsciously intentionally designed to be palatable to a wide range of audiences. I answered that I usually refer to Kayla as "my partner", but I still often call her "my girlfriend". I appreciate that he asked me the question because it made me think about why I call her either of those things. It is second nature for me to call her my "partner" because that is the word that has become to be understood in our modern language to mean "same sex spouse", or even in some cases, an opposite sex spouse that for one reason or the other is not married or does not want to be referred to as married. His response to my answer was that he often finds it confusing when people refer to one another as "partner", for instance a man and woman that he knows who work together refer to one another as "partner", though he knows that they are romantically involved. He wonders if they are referring to their business or personal relationship. When I refer to Kayla as my partner I assume that people find it easy to distinguish because Kayla and I are not running a business together, but we live together and are building a life together. He shared that after he and his wife were married, he felt so proud to refer to her as "wife". He says it isn't even to do that much about her, but about the status that it refers to. "I am a married person. I am not dating, I am not even seriously dating. I am married. I have reached the point in life where I am making serious, important, permanent decisions." The entire conversation leaves me thoughtful, and I'm grateful for it. It reminds me that there is often a part of us that is kept closeted, even those of us that live our lives out loud in almost every way. We let others assume things about us because it is easier sometimes to not have to explain. I am reminded of when I was 19 and realizing this amazing truth about myself, and it felt like the deepest breath of fresh air on the inside, but facing the world that I had known up to that point I felt suffocated. A strange dichotomy is feeling so free and proud on one hand, but on the other, terrified and trembling at the idea of translating that new found freedom and pride out loud. My response to that fear was to shave my head, stop wearing make up, and don combat boots and baggy ripped up jeans. I have long been able to look back on that time in my life and recognize the reason for drastically changing the way that I looked. If I was unattractive to men, and stood out as an irregular girl or a girl that didn't give a fuck what people thought about how I looked, then I could get my message across without having to speak it out loud. I did not have the support or the confidence or the courage to tell everyone that I was a lesbian, so I turned myself into a walking billboard. I am thankful that I no longer suffer that fear on the level that can be paralyzing, but I am reminded that I do still suffer from a self inflicted need to please others. I am thankful that I work in an industry and live in a community that allows me to be outspoken about who and what I am. But there are still times when I hesitate to share something that my listener might not give a second thought to, and it comes from a rooted (unjust and irrational) fear that I will no longer be a "legitimate" member of society in their eyes. Maybe that is why I don't call Kayla "my wife" without a second thought. After all, it is just a word, but my friend and client reminded me today that there is great great power in a word.