How Prop. 8 Could Dismantle My Marriage

Note: As of Nov. 5, it appears California's Proposition 8 has passed successfully. This piece was written prior to the vote on the ballot initiative.

I have been ''married'' three times.

Each time, to the same person.

The first time Andrew and I got ''married,'' we were in a mortgage office where Andrew's cousin worked. It was March 2003 and we were there to get our domestic partnership notarized and take Andrew's cousin to lunch. The notary checked our identification and placed a red stamp on a document that both bound and protected our relationship. The paperwork took just a few minutes to complete. We mailed in the document that same afternoon. A few weeks later, another piece of paper arrived notifying us that we were ''registered domestic partners.''

That simple act gave legal significance to our relationship. We didn't exchange rings. There were no flowers girls or ring bearers. We were in shorts and T-shirts totally casual. His cousin, Julie, was not even in the same room. She was finishing a business call when we filled out the one-page document.

We registered ourselves as domestic partners as a way to protect our rights and give legal recognition to our relationship. Both being attorneys, we were very aware of the lack of protection and recognition of our relationship. Despite being together, then for seven years, I would have been treated as a complete stranger in the eyes of the law if anything terrible happened to Andrew. His family could have kicked me out of the house we bought together or even prevented me from visiting him in the hospital. His brother, who called us an insulting term during a family argument, would have had a right to our house. I don't think my ''in-laws'' would stoop to that level, but it is all very possible within the limits of the law. And, it has happened to too many lesbians and gays in the past.

The second time we got ''married'' was on Valentine's Day 2004. Again, the big Chinese banquet or tea ceremony was lacking. We drove to San Francisco's City Hall to get married after Mayor Gavin Newsom declared that San Francisco would no longer discriminate against gays and lesbians with regard to marriage rights. We waited for four hours along with other couples for the right to have our relationship legally recognized. It was powerful to hear a judge declare us ''spouses.'' Then, several months later, the Supreme Court annulled our marriage, citing that Mayor Newsome exceeded his power to grant marriage licenses to same-sex couples. So, we settled for the best thing the law afforded us at the time: a separate and unequal domestic partnership. Andrew became my ''domestic partner'' with some limited rights.

More recently, this summer, we got married yet again. And, again, it was a simple event.

There was no ceremony. My parents were not there. My siblings were not present. My adorable 6-year-old nephew was not able to be the ring bearer.

Like the second time, we drove to San Francisco. We went to the Hall of Justice, which is the criminal court building. As attorneys, we have appeared many times in those courtrooms arguing for justice and fairness for victims. It was only fitting that we came there to find justice for ourselves. My ability and right to legally marry Andrew came a few weeks earlier from the California Supreme Court. It was that court that saw the inequity of denying marriage rights to gays and lesbians. The court, in recognizing the importance of the institution of marriage to society, struck down laws that denied those fundamental rights to gay men and lesbian women. In choosing to get married this way, we gave up the chance to have a formal wedding ceremony because we wanted to get married before that right is overturned by Proposition 8. Proposition 8 on Tuesday's ballot would eliminate the rights of gays and lesbian to be married in California.