I’m not sure how to kick off this tale. I want to share adorable anecdotes about my son, heartwarming moments with my partner, and whisk you away from the mundane, giving you a reason to smile—something we all need a bit more of. But before diving into those delightful stories, I must clarify one thing I can’t offer you this year: forgiveness.
I have poured my heart and soul into my life’s journey. Growing up in a low-income household, we were a family reliant on food stamps, battling to get by in the foothills of the Catskill Mountains. At 17, I came out as gay while navigating the halls of a private Catholic university. After being a victim of a hate crime, I chose to take a stand, publicly shedding the label of victimhood and instead confronting the injustices that my university community refused to acknowledge. I took legal action to establish a gay-straight alliance, realizing the profound need for belonging and inclusion. I traveled the country advocating for the importance of standing for one’s principles, refusing to be limited by those filled with hate. I committed to a life grounded in gratitude, respect, and dedication.
Then came Alex, the man who would become my husband. Our values clicked, and together, we fought to create a life that was open and inclusive, allowing others to see reflections of their own humanity in our relationship. We invested the time and energy to come out to family members who struggled to understand—an exhausting endeavor that has continued for years.
After our wedding in New York, our home state of New Jersey refused to recognize our marriage for a year. Now, while marriage equality is acknowledged nationwide, we still hesitate to hold hands or kiss in public. Despite the progress we’ve made, there are still those who fail to comprehend, and who might even harm us.
We’ve tirelessly navigated the ups and downs of starting a family, embracing challenges with grace and determination. When our son, Leo, was born, the moment the doctors handed him to me, I knew he would have two fathers who would fiercely protect him with even greater resilience than we fought for ourselves.
The Obama administration significantly improved our lives. As the first sitting president to support marriage equality, job protection, and parental rights, he ensured that our family received the same legal protections as any other. With equal access to marriage, our son has health insurance, and we are granted legal rights across states.
I recognized that President Obama understood the sting of discrimination, having often been on the margins. He aimed to create a better world for future generations, and we were on board with that mission.
The stakes were high in the 2016 election for families like ours, as we sought to uphold the legacy of protecting women, children, and minorities. The Republican platform threatened to strip away basic civil rights, attacking same-sex marriage and championing “natural marriage.” They defended businesses that wished to deny service to families like mine under the guise of religious freedom.
So, naturally, we reached out to those who had expressed their love and support for our family. These individuals, whom we hold dear and trust, were essential to us. We needed their support, just as any family does, because sometimes we feel overwhelmed and just want to hide until morning.
What followed was eye-opening. Many of those who pledged their support for our family announced their intention to vote for the Republican Party and its candidate, Donald Trump. Despite our efforts to educate them on differing political opinions, they remained unmoved. They might not have identified as racists, sexists, or homophobic, yet they still supported a candidate embodying those qualities.
Elections give us a rare opportunity to advocate for families like mine, who often find themselves in unwelcoming places. We strive to tell young LGBTQ+ kids that they are valid and worthy just as they are, that life is worth fighting for. This election wasn’t just another event; it was about our right to exist.
Your choice was clear, and you made it. You aligned with a party that seeks to revoke my marriage and deny my family the protections you enjoy. You chose a party that allows businesses to turn away my family while welcoming yours inside. There’s no going back to the way things were.
This is not just a case of disappointment. This administration threatens my family’s very existence. Nearly every Trump appointee has a history of supporting anti-LGBT legislation. From Vice President Mike Pence’s staunch opposition to LGBT rights to Attorney General nominee Jeff Sessions voting against our access to Social Security—this is a daunting reality. I could go on, but I won’t.
Here’s the deal: it’s not my job to ease your discomfort about the choices you made. I wake up at the crack of dawn to care for my son before heading off to work, and by the time I leave in the evening, I don’t have the energy to soothe your conscience.
Everything. Is. Not. Okay.
Throughout my life, whether facing the biting winters of the Catskills or standing on the courthouse steps fighting for equality, I’ve been inspired by powerful women who stand up against adversity because they are often the only ones who can. Their voices urge me to push further and do more, to be the kind of man my husband and son can be proud of. And now, in response to the call for forgiveness, I hear the Dixie Chicks loud and clear:
I’m not ready to make nice.
In conclusion, this article reflects on the struggles of LGBTQ+ families in the wake of political decisions that threaten their rights and existence. It highlights the importance of standing firm in one’s beliefs and the need for continued advocacy and support.