Despite The Positive Result, The Same Sex Marriage Survey Was Far From What The Queer Community Wanted

I've never been a political comedian, or come to think of it, a political person in general. I was raised by a couple of poor leftie pinko visual artists in the 1990s, so all I've ever understood for sure is The Liberal party is the devil and use-by dates on food should be treated as just a guide. For many years I have enjoyed laying in my warm non-governmental bubble, only ever tuning into Q&A if there was a particular nut job on I knew I could squeeze some retweets out of to replace the hugs I clearly must have missed as a child. I was the true personification of ignorance is bliss. Then, about a year and a half ago, I suddenly and inadvertently became extremely political when I did one simple thing. I asked my boyfriend (who is a man) to marry me (by all reports, I am also a man).

On the morning of the Same-Sex Marriage survey results last month, we decided to head into Melbourne library with thousands of others to hear the announcement. We hopped onto a train and as we stopped in Brunswick and the surrounding suburbs the train started to get gayer. Much gayer. Super-duper gay. I'd never seen so many rainbow flag capes and questionable haircuts. It was like a bizarro Australia Day. It was hard to tell who were the lesbian couples and who were their infant twin sons. By the fifth stop, we got a government grant to put on an interpretive dance piece for a group of underprivileged teens. What I'm getting at here is, it was pretty gay you guys.

Now you'd think a train of homos would be fun but to be honest, it was actually very stressful. Not just because all the glitter was hurting our eyes, but because we had absolutely no idea what the survey result was going to be and that was genuinely terrifying. We were sitting on that train waiting to find out what we were worth. This whole ludicrous process was never about marriage. It was about whether Australia as a whole thought the queer as a community were deserving of a simple and basic right. Fun.

As we all moved from stop to stop, I noticed a gay couple chatting with their two young children. They had clearly been given the day off from school and one of the mums was explaining the plan for the day. "So if it's Yes vote we are going to shout and cheer and have a nice big lunch at a cafe." Great plan. "And if it's a No, we'll go ten-pin bowling." Ok then. I've been trying to grapple with the logic of this for a few weeks now. I can't work out if it's a reward or punishment? I guess it's a case of taking control of the situation? "Well, if the government doesn't recognise us as a family, I guess we'll go spend the afternoon pelting large balls at pieces of wood while looking at divorcees in someone else's shoes. They haven't won kids! They haven't won."

This is what you have to do as a minority. Sometimes you have to feign control to get through; hold on to the small victories. And let me tell you, throughout this whole thing it's been difficult at times to find any victory. Small or otherwise. The daily barrage of fuck-heads and their "respectful debate" in the lead up had been so exhausting and numbing that this train carriage was brimming with people who were just tired and done. I wasn't even sure I wanted to go into town to watch the announcement because I didn't know if I wanted to be in public if the result was No. I couldn't stand the idea of the looks we as a group would get. "Ah well, you tried. Better luck next time." No. This wasn't a baking competition or a dog show, although I wish it was a dog show. I feel like I should tell you the slippery slope argument is true and my second husband is going to be a Dachshund.

Now look, it might not sound like it, but I love this country. With all my heart. However as I think any member of a minority here will tell you, we love Australia in the same way we love the elderly members of our family. They mean well, but make no mistake, they are harbouring some dark 1950s bullshit. They can usually keep it together, but given the right opportunity, suddenly Great Aunt Joan is talking about the good ol' days when everyone was "happy being separate". This is what the survey did. The Liberal party picked up a rock and asked the opinion of the people living under it. As it turns out, a bunch of those opinions were derogatory and hurtful. Shocker.

I realise under the circumstances I could sound whiney to some people. We got the Yes vote. Yes. When the announcement rippled through the crowd out the front of the library, the feeling was like nothing I'd felt before. The queer community is a little bit all over the shop so sometimes we can seem quite disparate. But that day we all hugged, kissed and began discussions of the next sanity we could destroy.

So why are we still going on about it? We got what we wanted, didn't we? No. This exercise was far from what any reasonable person wanted. We didn't have to do this and it's far from over. Blood banks won't take our blood, teens all over the country are terrified to come out because of what they've seen people say over the past months and queer suicide is up. Why would anyone want this?

So all I have to say is get to work Malcolm. You've shit the bed, now lay in.

And hey, let's never do anything like this again. No one should have to go ten-pin bowling.